Translucent Waters
by Petite Cherie
Summary: The secret Finnick kept from the rest of the world was the knowledge that Annie Cresta had always been broken. And he had loved her all the more for it. The secret Annie kept? Finnick Odair was just as mad as her. Finnick & Annie from the beginning.
1. Her Shelter

**I don't own anything, that all belongs to Suzan Collins!**

**Hey, everyone! This is not only the first story I've written about the heart-breaking couple Finnick and Annie, but the first story I've posted on here,_ ever. _I'm not an author that demands reviews in return for updates - I'll write because I love it, and when I find the time - but I would, especially for the first couple chapters, like some feedback, even if it's only a single review. I just need to know whether or not this should be scrapped or if y'all think I should continue:)**

**This is a very, very short chapter but I'll be posting another straight after, so don't you worry your pretty little heads;) Thanks for your time!**

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><p>Flashes of sun-kissed russet tresses interfered with the gaze of a pair of gleaming emerald eyes. Swirling, undulating, the tawny hair enfolded the girl who held herself underwater, encasing her in silken strand and sheltering her from the sunlight that streamed through the nubilous blue waters. Kneading, pressing, the water comforted her. It held her, suspending time, in its warm embrace. It loved her. It knew her. As the girl felt the sudden pressing on her chest, she twirled once more, enjoying her weightlessness. Within these waters, she was free; and the minute she had to reveal her weakness and grasp for oxygen was the minute she despised her mortality. So she held herself under, till the pain invaded her every limb, before leisurely floating to the top and soaking in the air.<p>

It took a second before her sea-green eyes adjusted to the world around her, but as they did she knew she had overstayed her welcome in her salty home. The land inhabitants had begun to stir restlessly, flitting back and forth in untouched dresses and pristine trousers. And it could only mean one thing.

Annie was late for Reaping Day.


	2. Growing Tired

Wide open space  
>Catch my tail, fishing net.<br>Fold up my frown, take the rage  
>and smooth it out.<br>- Ellie Goulding, Fighter Plane.

I should probably specify - in this fic, I made Reaping Day July 1st (as you'll find out in about 30 seconds) I hope that's not a big problem!

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><p><em>Finnick Delain Odair was growing tired of June.<em>

Well, more specifically, the end of June.

More specifically, the day right after it.

But he hated June 30th almost as much as he hated July 1st, because that day was when he felt the overwhelming sense of nothingness. Tomorrow, he would put on his show face and smile and flirt like the other 364 days of the year. But today, he would bury his head under the covers and insist Mageana - his housekeeper - leave him alone for the day. Of course, save for the 5 minutes he allowed her into his room to bring him his special blue pills. The chalky tubes were strong enough to last him the day until he fell into his writhing, howling slumber.

_Finnick Delain Odair was growing tired of July._

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><p><em>Annalaese Verula Cresta was completely tired of July.<em>

She stood, sweating, shaking, and swaying in the middle of the over-crowded town center of District 4. She lurched precariously as Stark, the district's escort with eggshell blue skin and white coiffed hair, gracefully strode across the stage. She grabbed the microphone with a incomprehensibly upbeat _swish_, smiles eccentrically and begins the worn tale of the world before Panem, a world known as North America. It's a story that really doesn't need to be repeated; any child in any district can recite the tale by heart. Nonetheless, the strange blue-skinned woman continues to recount their history with vigour.

"...And so came our glorious Capitol, the twelve districts, and all of Panem!" Stark finished, swirling her well-manicured hands. Without skipping a beat, she segued into the introductions and welcoming of the district's mentors. Not that they need any introduction - the mentors are as notorious as the story of Panem's creation. But Annie wasn't complaining, it was another few minutes of rest before the moment of horror. Cocking her head slightly, she gripped at her earthen dress and exhaled loudly. The moment was getting closer.

Bombay, a friend from the docks, brushed her hand across hers reassuringly.

"Just a couple more minutes, Annie, then we can go home." She whispers from the side of her mouth, eyeing her cautiously.

Annie sighed, hearing the logic in her words. "You're right. We just need to get through the next little bit, then I'll be able to relax. I just get so wound-up at these things!" Bombay can only smile sympathetically and nod, they've already spoken too much and the Peacekeepers are visibly eyeing them. Talking during the Reapings is never a good idea.

The girls draw their attention back to the stage as the mentors begin their ascent of the steps, and despite Bombay's words Annie's lips draw into a tight line.

First on the platform was the 70-something-year-old Mags, a winner who's Games almost no one remembered - but the winners following her victory had all died or were seemingly missing. So here she was, a woman who should long ago been in retirement, overlooking young girls and boys about to be called to the death penalty. The group held a collective hush out of respect, but movement still stirred among the youth. She was a winner of the horrific Hunger Games, and even if no one knew how she won, she could still be revered.

If Mags had caused a ripple, the next mentor caused a tidal wave. Finnick Odair. He was the boy, nay,_ man_, who had taken over the hearts of women and men alike all over Panem. Especially 4, and _especially_ the Capitol. He was inhumanly gorgeous - no one could deny it. The beauticians would strive for years to replicate his good looks; his tan skin and golden, shining hair. His indescribable green eyes and his perfect smile. Even his voice, his famous seductive purr, was the epitome of sexuality. But they never would be able to hold a candle to his aesthetics, it was simply impossible. He was a God among men. The pride and joy of 4, winning the Games at the age of 14, much thanks to his luck with sponsors and a trident that almost seemed an extension of his hand.

Annie studied the man for a second, letting her hands clench and unclench as they pleased. When the world fell quiet, she knew.

It was time.

"Well," Stark paused dramatically, obviously enjoying the attention, "ladies first." With a smirk of the immune she slowly dropped her hand into the glass bowl, twisting and turning her eloquent fingers in the slips of paper. She grasped one, drawing it out at the pace of molasses.

Annie inhaled sharply, squeezing her eyes shut. She began to hum a lullaby, rocking on her feet, waiting for the terror to be over. As she heard Stark unfold the paper, her nerves flushed. Her name was only in there six times, she hadn't taken any tesseraes. She would be safe.

Still, some strange sense of foreboding kept her eyes shut.

That's when Stark cleared her throat.

_Annalaese Cresta._

Her eyes burst open.

_Me._

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><p>Finnick watched with little real amusement as Stark reached into the glass bowl.<p>

_Annalaese Cresta._

The name didn't have a significant weight to it, but Finnick hadn't remembered a girl's name in a long time. Clenching his hands lightly, he hoped this new girl would be a Career. They were easier to deal with - easier to watch die. But as he watched the girl step forward, he knew instantly she was anything but a Career.

She was an innocent. Couldn't be a day over seventeen, with long flowing chocolate hair and a small gait.

As the guards pushed her up, he could already see the grim determination mixed with fear that her eloquent sea-green eyes struggled to contain. As she stepped closer to the platform, her shapely lips slightly parted in shock, he could see she was an attractive girl, in a very feminine way.

It wasn't the contrived aesthetics of those at the Capitol, but it would definitely be an asset in earning sponsers.

_At least that's one thing, _Finnick sighed.

She takes dainty steps up the large stairs, already overwhelmed. The guards part and she sways, lost looking in a sea of faces. No one has volunteered to save this poor, small, girl.

She scans her eyeline, then turns and looks all around her as the male tribute is called up. Her gaze reaches me, I can feel it. She scans me upwards, her orbs hazy, until she catches my own eyes.

I can't resist, she's a pretty girl - my most charming smile breaches my face. _Maybe that'll brighten her mood._

She only stares into my eyes a moment. Just a moment. But long enough for me to see we killed some part of her the moment Stark's lips echoed her name.

_Annalaese Cresta... Are you going to fight?_

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><p><em><strong>So that's that! I hope you guys liked it! If you did... why not leave a review, eh? Thanks for your time, lovely readers, I hope to hear from you in the future.<strong>_

_**~ Petite Cherie.**_


	3. Blurred Reality

_**Hey everyone, thanks for reading! Special thanks to my reviewers:**_

_ArabellaSmith; my very first reviewer - woohoo milestone! DCdreamer55 which helped me to noticed I hadn't changed "Crest" to "Cresta" in all places; and Cindella204 for her constructive criticism with my change of POV, which means a lot that someone bothered to point that out in order to help me:) Y'know, that ALWAYS been a problem of mine, and I am trying to fix it but please alert me if it gets too distracting!_

_Thanks to the seven people who put Translucent Waters under story alert,the one who put it under 'favourite story', and the two who put me under 'favourite author'._

_I'd also like to give a BIG thanks to Dawn-of-Indescribable-Colors for the unconditional support, it's a major reason I was confident enough to post this!_

Spin me round again  
>and rub my eyes,<br>this can't be happening  
>when busy streets amass with people<br>would stop to hold their heads heavy

Hide and Seek; Imogen Heap.

The song above is not only beautiful but fits well with this chapter, specifically Annie's POV.

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><p><strong>ANNIE'S POV<strong>

_It... I ... me?_

I was numb. I didn't hear Bombay gasp and throw herself on me, I didn't feel the Peacekeepers grab me by the elbows and tow me towards the stage. I didn't even feel my feet moving, but somehow they were; left, right, left, right. Somehow I got to the stage, I saw the faces in front of me. Somehow I knew Finnick had grinned at me, but all I had been able to see was his eyes, and they certainly didn't tell me what his smile did. His green orbs were the last thing I saw before the world became one mess of colour.

Faces were hovering over me, bodies pressed against my dress on all sides. I was being ushered somewhere, I knew that. Occasionally I attempted to restore myself back into full mental alertness, but whenever I tried the blurriness took over my eyes and things became worse; I stumbled on stairs and tripped over my own feet. There was a strong hand on my arm that attempted to guide me, but when that wasn't enough it fell to my back as it practically lifted me over the carpet.

I was sat on a red couch, made of a fabric much too luxurious for me to ever be able to identify. My thoughts swam and the room began to spin until a door slammed shut. Looking up, everything was beginning to clear - my family was here, grasping at me, crying, wailing, pulling at me for their turn to hold their delicate daughter one last time. They knew I wouldn't come home, just like I did. Even though I came from a Career district, no one had volunteered to save poor little Annie Cresta, and I would be tossed into the arena like a lamb waiting for slaughter.

An ancient Greek myth I had once read came to mind, that of the beautiful Helen and her great defiance in order to follow love. It wasn't of Helen that I thought of, but another woman. Iphigenia was the daughter of Helen's brother-in-law, and when he angered some ostentatious Goddess or another, he was told to sacrifice his only daughter so he could successfully conquer the Greeks and bring back Helen. I couldn't remember how he bribed her to come down from her room, but when she found out her fate was to be death, she struggled and cried before she laid down her neck and submitted to her fate. So daintily and honorably did she sacrifice herself that the vengeful Goddess saved her and gave her life on another island.

Perhaps no Goddess would come to my aid, but I now knew my fate and I would die gracefully like Iphigenia.

And like that, I had decided my fate. _After all, what are we to do but learn from books?_

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><p><strong>FINNICK'S POV<strong>

_This girl, this Annalaese..._

I had almost begun to feel bad for the poor girl. Almost immediately after I had so charmingly smiled at her, her eyes has glossed over, the irises becoming murky and clouded as they grew increasingly vacant. I didn't know much about this girl, this Annalaese, but she was certainly quite odd. In my few years as a mentor I had seen tributes react in every way possible; from weeping to celebrating, I _thought_ I had seen it all.

_This girl, this Annalaese_, had somehow turned herself numb. She was unresponsive to all the Peacekeeper's probing and prodding, immune to Stark's idle chatter - a power I envied - and unfeeling to the world around her. She was taking so damn long to get up the stairs I eventually moved my hand from her elbow to her back and pushed her up. She didn't snap or push my hand away, so I shrugged and figured she didn't mind. Or maybe she couldn't even feel it, who knows. I gotta say, even though it was strange, I kind of admired the way she remained unattached to the crazy surroundings. I could've learned something from her after my own Reaping; I had been a shaking, snotty mess.

We reached the room she would be saying her goodbyes in, and Stark flaked off with a squeeze of my bicep and flick of her tongue. Needless to say, I internally shuddered. A Peacekeeper grabbed Annalaese by the forearm and began to shove her into the doorway. Hissing, I blocked his arm and shooed the rest of them off. She and the other tribute - _God damn, what was his name? A... Am... Am-something _- were under my jurisdiction now and they didn't need their abuse. The next few days would be hard enough without it. Yet when I turned to Annalaese to earn a grateful smile in return for my heroics, she was simply staring ahead, apparently not even noticing everything I had done.

Incredulous, I raised my arms in question before sighing and opening the door for her.

"In you go, sweet." I raised my eyebrows and did my best to remain charming; gracing her with a wink. She remained still.

This girl was going to be a pain in my ass, I just knew it.

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><p><strong>ANNIE'S POV<strong>

When I came to, it was sudden and without warning; blobs became shapes and shapes became faces. My mother was in front of me, her face stained with tears, her hair in disarray.

"Oh, Momma!" My voice was hoarse and my eyes dewy before I could control it.

"My baby, my baby," She cooed, her thin arms wrapped around me, nails digging into my flesh. I could feel the tears stinging at my eyes, my throat closing up, already raw. But I forced my mouth to open, sucking air in and out at a steady pace. If I cracked in front of her, if I let myself slip, she would just break, flying into one of her fits. And if my last memory of my Mom was her screaming and rocking on the floor - I just, I can't deal with that. I can't.

Slowly, soothingly, my dad pried my Mom's nails from my skin. Wincing, I looked up into his big brown eyes. The intense earthen eyes I didn't inherit. The eyes I always wish I had. As they turned away, sadness horribly hidden in his orbs, he stroked her pale arms and her hair. He was always so good at calming her down.

The Peacekeeper in the room eyed them oddly as he opened the door once again. This time it was my friends, Carp and Bombay. They had both obviously been crying, but Carp had the good grace to not continue with his tears in my presence. Bombay, on the other hand, was having a harder time keeping it together. They were both quiet as they approached me.

"Annie," Carp sighed, wrapping his strong arms around me. The smell of him, fish oil and sea breeze, calmed me as I inhaled his sharp scent.

"I'm gonna miss you, y'know." I managed a chuckle as he pulled away. Grabbing my shoulders, he stared into my eyes intensely.

"It's only for a little while, you see," His voice cracked. "cause you'll be back in a couple of weeks, and we'll go swimming and fishing and, and... everything you like, we'll do." His eyes were about to spill over, so he kissed my cheek and turned around.

Over the years, many had wondered if Carp and I were a couple. I didn't blame them, we were always around each other and he was liberal with his cheek-kisses. The truth is, even if I did want to be with Carp, I just couldn't. Not only was he like a brother to me, but his affections certainly did not match-up with me. What Bombay and I knew that D4 didn't was that Carp was just as interested in the muscular fisherman by the docks as we were.

Bombay approached me next, apparently calmed. But I knew better. Bombay normally talked a mile-a-minute, and the fact that she was hugging me without talking meant she was holding in her emotions. If she spoke she knew she wouldn't be able to control the tears. So I spoke for her.

"I love you, Bombay, you know that right?" It was my turn to be strong.

She simply nodded, biting her lip.

"And I want you to know I wouldn't be the person I am today without you. You've made me a better person, and for that you are the best friend I've ever had." I attempted a smile, but by the end of my soliloquy my own eyes were misty and threatening to spill.

She sobbed, drawing her hands to her face for a moment in a feeble attempt to hide her tears. I got up from the couch and wrapped my arms around her, swaying us back and forth in an attempt to calm us both.

Suddenly the tears came to a stop, Bombay's eyes ferocious and her demeanor intensely determined. I backed away, confused.

"The other competitors, Annie, they're stupid. They'll make mistakes. You won't. Don't fight them, just make them make mistakes. You can win, Annie, we know you can!"

With that she tore of her necklace and strung it over my neck. My eyes widened, Bombay knew I had always loved this necklace - and who wouldn't? It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen among the destitution of 4, with a delicate gold chain and large gold watch hanging from it. The detail was exquisite, with swirls that almost replicated water etched along the sides. When you opened it up, there was an archaic-looking clock on one side and a picture of the ocean on the other. It had cost Bombay's parents a fortune, and ever since she had received it as a Christmas present years ago, I had envied her with a passion.

"Bay, I can't take this!" I moved to remove it from my neck, although the weight already seemed fitting over my smooth neck.

"Nah, you keep it." She smiled slyly. "You always liked it better than I did anyway." Cocking her head, she wrapped her arms around me one last time and brushed a strand of hair away from my face. "We'll help you Dad take care of your Mom, Annie, don't you worry." She whispered, smiling softly.

I could only nod, now in my own silent mode to prevent tears. As Bombay and Carp left hand-in-hand, my attention was drawn back towards my parents. My mother was now sitting in an armchair looking only half-present, and my father was staring at me sadly, his eyes watery and his hands in his pockets. He approached me slowly, as if moving too fast would set me off, like a bomb.

Smiling wistfully, I embraced him as he turned his wiry body into mine. "You've always been a smart girl, Annie. You may not be the strongest, or the most experienced, but you keep your wits about you, you hear me Anna Banana?"

"Yes, Daddy. I hear you." And with that, a tear spilt out of my eye. Because it's not the words I am listening to. It's his voice. His shaking, pressing, fantastic voice. I don't care for the words he is saying, it is of no matter what they are. But when I die, I want to be able to remember exactly how he sounds. I want to hear him call me Anna Banana one last time before the darkness takes me.

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><p><strong>Alright, so that's the end of chapter 3! I had a bit too much fun last night and stayed up till 1am typing this out so I could post it for y'all today:) don't expect all updates to be this quick, however;) This wasn't my favourite chapter to write but it had to be done, nonetheless.<strong>

**So I put a few subtleties in this chapter that I hope weren't lost on you guys! Annie's fade-from-reality moment is something crucial for me; she can't bring herself back to reality by will, she remembers things incorrectly (in her blurriness she imagines everyone tearing at and crying all over her, while in reality, aside from her Mom, they are relatively calm), and that her mother is mentally ill in some modicum. We all know Annie goes mad after seeing her District partner beheaded, but I firmly believe it didn't just happen in a snap moment like that. Of course, it caused the majority of it, the severity. But she was already to some degree mentally unstable when she entered the Games. And, yes, Finnick will love her all the same for it!**

**On the subject of Finnick, another few subtleties to add from his POV - he's a little vain (or maybe vain isn't the right word, he knows he's inhumanly gorgeous, so that's only fair), he is already paying more attention to her (ex. he can't remember the other tribute's name), and he's protective (ex. stopping the Peacekeeper from pushing her). He will not recognize his feelings for some time, but the signs of his affection will be small and constant throughout the story. Cause, y'know, we may see he's falling for our lovely madcap Annie but he has to believe she "snuck up" on him.**

**Sorry for that long author's note, and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Reviews are not required but they certainly motivate me - so if you want to see faster updates leave an opinion! Thanks for spending your time reading my drabble, I send love to you!**


	4. Clerical Curiousity

Hey everyone! This chapter is something I struggled to get through, evident as it's less than 1000 words. But it's a connector, and it needed to be done, so I tried to do as best I could! I'm currently rereading Mockingjay, and every time I read something about Finnick I nearly burst into tears - and I'm only about a hundred pages in. I can't wait to get to that part of my story, but you're going to have to bare with me - it make take a while!

Hope you all enjoy this:)

_ Between the noise you hear _  
><em>And the sound you like<em>  
><em>Are we just sinking in an ocean of faces?<em>

All The Right Moves; OneRepublic

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><p><strong>Finnick's POV<strong>

I watched as two teenagers hesitantly closed the heavy door. They seemed to be around Annalaese's age, and I briefly wondered if I would see either of them next year. The girl, nervously twirling a jet-black strand of hair, was obviously holding in tears.

"When you frown you bring everyone down," I smiled, pulling back my shoulders and putting on my best grin. "So put a smile on those pretty lips, little lady."

The pair looked at me, the boy narrowing his eyes and the girl flitting her own from the door to me, blood rising to her cheeks. She was pretty, if not a bit tall and lanky. Her friend was much more attractive, with her long soft hair and big eyes. _No matter, I'm sure a gaze from the impeccable Finnick Odair will cheer her up._

I nearly bit through my cheek trying to stifle a dark laugh.

The guy, almost reaching my height, ran a hand through his slicked back dark hair, flexing his large bicep. I wasn't an expert in body language, but I knew when someone was attempting to intimidate me. I almost scoffed, but I settled for a single eyebrow raise.

After another minute of silence he approached me, his eyes dangerously determined. I pushed myself off the wall, meeting him halfway.

A finger jammed into my chest. "Look here, Odair, that girl needs to come home. And you better do everything in your power to get her out of there."

I stood my ground, staring down at his eyes curiously, my one eyebrow still resting above the other. _A little protective for a friend._

The girl pulled at his elbow and begged him to leave me alone, eyeing me as if I would strike out like a venomous snake. "C'mon, Carp, let's just go."

"Surprisingly I'm not just a pretty face," I called after him, waving goodbye with just a tinge of sarcasm.

In reality, I admired he cared about the girl. It was cute, their puppy love. Nonetheless, venom had leaked into my voice as they departed.

Out next came who I suspected to be her mother and father, being roughly escorted out by the Peacekeepers. I straightened my back to a ridiculous degree, squaring my shoulders. When our head Peacekeeper, Lione Kronos, passed, I drew my hand up and saluted him with my middle and index finger. Lione growled and picked up his pace, his eyes seemingly showing disgust at my very existence.

As he turned his back my index finger retracted and I left the finger there, hanging.

"You'd think with all the time you spend in the Capitol, they would have taught you some manners, Finnick Odair."

I turned to find Annalaese looking at me with amusement, her arms crossed, shaking her head in mock disappointment. Despite the red rims around her eyes, she managed a disbelieving smile and a sparkle in her green spheres.

She charmed a half-smile onto my face and my head cocked characteristically.

"It takes a lot to tame me," I winked "but maybe the right woman would help..." I trailed off, bringing my body closer to hers. She backed up, but I kept going, and soon her back was to the wall. It was a narrow corridor, so it had taken almost no time for me to cover the space between us. It took even less time for her laughter to ring through my ears.

"Again with the manners," She sighed, giggles still coursing through her words. "You would've thought you would have at least absorbed something through osmosis." She slid by me without so much as a brush of chests, and spun around to face me once she escaped the confines of my sculpted body.

_Osmosis? Alright, she's got some brains, I'll give her that. Another thing to tell Mags._

"No matter, you teach me a few things and I'll teach you a few more." She smiled and laughed at her own dark humor. "Now if I'm correct, you have to take me to the train. Get moving, mentor." Her bright teeth flashed once again, genuine and innocent, if not a hint sad. She turned on her toes and began to walk down the hallway, her fingertips trailing the walls.

I shoved my hands in my pocket, disbelieving. _She goes from numb to this? She'll be a real twist in the Games. _I shrugged, following her down the hall. _Well, some crazy sponsor is bound to love her._

**If only Finnick knew.**


	5. Blinding Lights

Another chapter! So soon! Aren't I just the best;) Sigh, I wish I could make them fall in love already. But it's only their first day of really 'knowing' each other, so I've got to take it slow. Which means you have to wait it out! I'm horrible, I know. Thanks for reading and I hope this isn't too much of a disappointment:)

_Come out upon my knees  
>Cursed missed opportunities<br>Am I part of the cure?  
><em>_Or am I part of the disease? _

Clocks; Coldplay.

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><p><strong>Annie's POV<strong>

_"Annalaese! Annalaese!" _

_*Snap* *click* *SNAPSNAPSNAP* _

_"ANNALEASE!"_

They call my name like a pack of wild, starving dogs, and it's horrifying. They're snarling at me, shoving each other just to see my face. Pure, fluorescent, blinding white light continually flashes before my eyes, rendering me temporarily blind.

It was equal parts mesmerizing and terrifying, but no matter the level of the horror or the pain in my retinas; I couldn't seem to turn away. I couldn't even move. The lights are so intriguing. They keep flashing, like a sun blocked and then allowed to shine, just for me. They absorb my vision until the actual photographers are no longer visible, only the twirling and blinking white. My lips parted slightly as I grew increasingly incoherent.

The next flash shocked me, sending my vision, or lack thereof, into spirals. I was suddenly dizzy, and I squeezed my eyes shut just as the lights cut out. Despite the lack of bulbs my brain showed my visions of a spinning black-and-white tube, and it left me reeling. I grabbed at my hair in confusion and opened my eyes, hoping to find a place of respite.

I was already in shelter. The world before me was dark and comforting, and despite my lack of knowledge as to how I had entered this sanctuary, I was grateful. Leaning in towards it, I inhaled a scent that smelled suspiciously familiar, a scent of sea breeze unsuccessfully attempting to be covered by an expensive perfume.

"Don't get too caught up with them, baby-girl, they can be the most dangerous of the Capitol's muttations. Men with camera's permanently attached to their hands." The voice was low and gravelly, the arms that pressed against my back strong and confident, the shelter was Finnick.

Leaning against his well-kept iron-like body for support and immunity from the flashes, we made our way into the train. Once inside, I peeled my body off of his, my slightly damp dress sticking to his tight T-shirt.

I tilted my head upwards, for the first time realizing how much height Finnick had on me. Our eyes met, his orbs only slightly darker than my own, and I found them filled with unrestricted amusement.

"They nearly ate you alive out there," He smiled, placing his finger beneath my chin to tip it further upwards. "That means they like you."

His touch lit a fire on my cheeks, and I couldn't help but twitch out of his touch as I laughed. "Well now that you've gotten me out of one fatal situation, hopefully you'll be able to get me out of another, hmm?"

Despite his reputation as a Lothario, Finnick's flirtations still surprised and unnerved me. I would never deny that he was beautiful, but along with that beauty came his unpredictability and the undefinable twist in my stomach that generally came with talking to boys who looked like him.

My attempt at a joke, in most lights, would have been at least a touch humorous. Although it had been an effort on my part to relieve the tension of being Reaped, it went a touch too far. My throat started to swell and close, aching as it always did when I got emotional. I could feel my eyes wetting, and I closed them in an brief attempt at hiding the pain. I let out a strangled laugh, and even to my own ears it sounded fake and disingenuous. The joke had been too much, and we both knew it.

When I reopened my eyes Finnick was staring at me curiously, his eyes searching me up and down before glazing over, as if he had been caught deciding on how to react. There was something strangely forced about Finnick, but it made sense. When you have to train kids every year only to watch them die, your relationship with the Games would be strained.

"I'm, uh, I'm just gonna go find my room." I nodded awkwardly, pretending to itch my upper arm for lack of something better to do. "I'll see you in a few hours I suppose." I attempted another smile before jerking around as the tears hit my cheeks.

My total lack of knowledge regarding the train's layout left me wandering for several minutes before I sat down on a bench and attempted some deep breathing.

Surely it was a piece of good karma coming around when Stark rounded the corner. Finally I was ushered into my room, all the while hearing about the outfits I would get to wear and the food I would get to eat - with my first meal starting in about two hours, by her calculation. I smiled and giggled on cue, pulling at my dress in faux-enthusiasm and squealing as she flapped her hands eccentrically. My emotion must have pleased her, because when she left I received a pat on the head and kiss on the cheek, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

It must have been another piece of good luck that she didn't notice _my _eyes, gleaming with tears.

* * *

><p><strong>Finnick's POV<strong>

"It's a simple question Finnick, what's she like!" Mags huffed before shakily stuffing a sugar cube in her mouth, obviously frustrated with my inability to articulate.

"I already told you she's.._ hard to explain_." I ran a hand through my hair, willing descriptor words to enter my mind. "She's strange, that's for sure." I let out a small chuckle, remembering the vacant look in her eyes after being Reaped and the way she had reacted to the paparazzi.

Mags simply scoffed and got up from her chair, hunting the cupboards for some snack or another.

"She's a pretty little thing though," I smirked, licking my lips and leaning against the polished marble wall.

After glaring at me Mags continued on her search. "I wasn't asking for her aesthetics," she growled.

I could only laugh at her grumpiness. "Are you so impatient you can't just wait for dinner to meet her for yourself?"

Shutting the cupboard door with finality, she turned to me warily. "Why don't you go get her and I'll get Amphitrite? I'm sure they would appreciate some friendly conversation and warm food right about now."

"I'm simply a slave to your wishes," A genuine grin crossed my face as I bowed, sweeping my arm out dramatically.

Mags soft, wrinkled hands brushed lightly against the exposed skin on my arm like silk on cotton, admonishing me with a light laugh.

As her padded feet shuffled noisily out the room, I began to make the short journey from common room to Annalaese's designated space.

My thoughts were immediately drawn back to her behavior at the train station. She had been immediately overwhelmed by the bright flashes and screaming, and while they had reacted unusually strong to her - which was no surprise, they did the same with all attractive tributes - she was going to be facing a hell of a lot worse at the Capitol, let alone in the arena. I sighed, running a hand through my hair yet again.

I began to wonder what she thought about when she became quiet and unresponsive. Surely, if she was retreating from the outside world, her thoughts and inner self must be something interesting. _Was she thinking about death? The Games? Or did she prefer to revolve around happier thoughts, like the boy from the train station?_

The idea perplexed me, so I decided to think of something else. The name of the other tribute, Amphitrite, popped into my head as I recalled Mags' brief description of the boy. He was a Career, tall and athletic with plenty of confidence. When Mags had asked who I would rather mentor, I was rather taken aback. Within a very short space of time I had apparently preselected myself as Annalaese's mentor. I hadn't really questioned it, it just seemed natural to coach the girl. I think it was the fact that she seemed so naivete - someone had to show her the way around weapons, and it certainly wouldn't be Mags. Without much further conversation it was official, I would teach her how to handle weapons while Mags would attempt to give the boy a calm mind and hopefully teach him some strategy.

Thinking again of Annalaese's innocence, I recalled with pleasure the blush that rose to her cheeks when I had brushed her chin briefly. She was so very cute, resisting my flirtations with giggles and dewy eyes. I think maybe I'd make it a goal of mine to crack her chaste facade during the next two weeks.

As I had finalized the thoughts in my head, the door I had been searching for seemed to magically appear before my eyes.

_What** perfect** timing, _I snickered.

With a smirk and a slight rushing of blood, I pushed the door open, the polished wood hitting the wall with a_ thud_.

"Oh, Annalaese -" I purr, lips curling.

I'm cut short when I see her silhouette pressed up against the window of the train. She must have heard me, but she doesn't move. Doesn't even respond, instead preferring to continue her gaze out the large transparent glass.

After another minute of silence, noise leaves her motionless form.

"Yes, Finnick?" Her tone is quiet and monotonous. I'm a bother distracting her from the view, unsummoned and unwanted._ Is she kidding me?_

After a brief eyebrow raise I trek silently to her side, attempting to see what she finds so interesting in the world sliding by through the glass.

As the trees fly by, I find my gaze slipping to her face. She really is beautiful; in a delicate, feminine sort of way. Her lips are a glorious bee-stung pink, her noise small and perfectly curved. Light freckles dance across her cheeks, giving her pale face contrast. Her long, black lashes frame her best feature - her eyes; flecked with gold and rimmed with blue, melding into a sea green. Even I didn't have eyes like that. And there was something else, besides the colour. There was something old and wistful, something wise well beyond the years of her body. Something I couldn't quite understand.

The heat of her body feels good next to mine, and it surprises me when I inhale a scent reminiscent of cinnamon.

I draw in breath to ask -

"Doesn't it make you feel as if you've never really lived?" She spoke, interrupting me.

I'm taken aback. "What?"

Despite her words, she doesn't turn to face me, only begins to smile lightly.

"Being called up as a tribute. That moment. Doesn't it make you feel... as if you've missed all your chances, let too many opportunities fly by?" Her response is more of a statement than a question. "And now that you finally get to see the world beyond 4, it's to meet your death. Poetically, beautiful. Realistically," She bites her lip, almost laughing. "Not so much."

I stand for a second, stunned. _**What** is she talking about?_

I bring my lips to her ear and exhale slowly onto her neck, my body tingling. "Darling, the only thing I see around here that's beautiful is you. Why don't you come on down to dinner, hmm? Maybe we can even get a little sugar later, huh Sugar?" My fingers fall to her hip, and I draw my fingers in a enticing, drawn-out pattern, fingering the cloth of her pants.

She exhales loudly and pushes away me with slim fingers. "God, Finnick. Are you like this with all your female tributes?" Her normally chipper voice is tainted with something like disgust. Her eyes, while not holding distaste, are suddenly frightening. Her eyebrows are creased and her lips slightly parted as she seems to burrow through my eyes in an attempt to understand something she can't quite comprehend.

But there is nothing to comprehend. I am nothing to be understood. I'm a shallow, vain, disgusting man.

I bite my tongue and nonetheless feel frustration growing in my chest. Shaking my head, I gesture out the door.

"It's dinner," My voice is colder then I had intended and my eyes steely.

She searches me for another few seconds before dropping it and exiting the room.

My eyebrows furrow once again at her complexity before I follow her out the door. I run a hand over my face, as if it would devoid if of all emotion. I wish.

"So, what did you spend your time doing?" My voice is almost back to normal, but I still can't masquerade the evident annoyance.

"Uh, nothing really." Her voice is warm, but still distant and relatively uninterested. My attempt at conversation had failed. It _never_ fails.

_What's she so prissy about, anyway? _An inner voice snarls.

_Why does it **matter**, Finnick? _This new voice startles me, because it's not quite my own. How it got there, I shall never know.

**I never was able to get it to leave.**

* * *

><p><em>I know that was a longer chapter, so I hope you got through it! I'm very excited to write a certain part of next chapter, so hopefully when inspiration hits me I'll be able to impress y'all with something exceeeellent:D I'll give you a few hints: it involves Stark, a rose, and some Finnick-related angst!<em>

_A few subleties: Annie liking Finnick's body as a shelter, Finnick liking Annie's closeness, Finnick not being able to quite define Annie... these are only a few. But **I want YOU to leave me a review telling me a few more of these subleties you found!** On the subject of reviews, thanks SO much to those who left one last chapter. Authors love reviews, and I'm no exception! So please, if you like my work, or even have a few helpful hints, please do write a few words for me_!


	6. Written On a Rose

Whew, I wrote more than I thought I would for this chapter! I was planning on including a bit more, but I didn't want to bore anyone with super-long chapters, so I'll save it for the next update:) Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, it means _so_ much! To _Howlynn_, thanks for the helpful hints! I changed most of what you said but kept some of the personification. And yes, _kittyandstars_ that is a sublety! On a side note, a writer of one of my favourite Finnick/Annie stories, _Pasdoll_ favourited this little work of mine... I may have squealed! Alright, without further adieu here it is!

_I would like to see_  
><em>A little more propriety,<em>  
><em>Cooperate with me,<em>  
><em>And answer me without a plea.<em>

Baby's Romance; Chris Garneau.

* * *

><p><strong>Annie's POV<strong>

"So, what did you spend your time doing?" His tone is back to that strange purr, but beneath it I can hear a different voice. One of irritation.

My mind swims, thoughts swirling and melding as if blended and released. I can't tell him what I did. I can't tell anyone what I did.

"Uh, nothing really." I think I've managed to bring my own voice back to regularity. But then again, I'm not sure. The ringing in my ears is messing with my hearing.

_Nothing really. _It was the truth. There was nothing beautiful, charming Finnick Odair would want to know. Beautiful Finnick Odair didn't want to know weak Annie Cresta had sobbed for an hour straight, soaking right through her pillow and silky sheets with salty droplets. The other thirty minutes I had spent in my room belonged to my sobering up, attempting to allow my face a brief moment of rest so that it could lose some of the blotchy red layer that currently consumed it. When I finally worked up the courage to look in the mirror I was ashamed that this face would be allowed in the same room as ones so beautiful. After that I had turned to the glass window and not moved, letting the trees that slid by take my thoughts with them.

That's when Finnick walked in, and a few minutes later I pissed him off. Was it all my fault? Was I expecting too much of him with my question? I figured he was a Victor, he would know what I was saying. But I suppose just because he was Reaped doesn't mean he felt the way I did. And I probably shouldn't have snapped at his flirtation. It was what he knew, what girls loved him for. I couldn't blame him for it.

I wanted to apologize to Finnick for my attitude. I did. But by the time I had turned to him, my mouth beginning to form slowly over the word _sorry_, the door in front of me had swung open and we found ourselves facing an elaborately lit room only outshone by the inhabitants within it.

I was suddenly swarmed by pastel-coloured skin and unnaturally bright, flashing eyes, all cooing and stroking my hair.

"Oh, she is just _so_ pretty!"

"Look at those eyes! That hair!"

"Look at that _body_! Oh, this is just going to be too much fun!"

I was too confused by their twirling and tittering to respond, and soon the creatures were fussing loudly over - of all things - my fingernails.

"Alright, you three, shoo." A deeper chuckle emanated from behind the human-crayon hybrids. They promptly separated, revealing the speaker.

He was tall with soft-looking mocha-coloured skin and intelligent jade-coloured eyes. His hair, several shades darker then his skin, was shaved extremely close to his unblemished skin, and I found the calculatedly perfect stubble on his chin extremely intriguing.

"I'm Leif," He extended a hand, his handsome face growing a smile. "Your stylist. And apparently the only sane one among your new redecorating crew. You must be -"

_"Annalaese."_

It wasn't my own voice that spoke my name, but Finnick's. There was a moment of quiet while Leif's gaze flickered briefly from my face to Finnick's.

"It's Annie," I broke the silence with a genuine smile in Leif's direction, before twisting my neck to turn it on Finnick. "Everyone calls me Annie."

His eyebrow rose but he said nothing, choosing to take his place at the table instead.

Leif and I turned back to each other. "Well, Annie, we're going to get to know each other very well over the next couple days. I look forward to it." He winked and gestured towards the table. Within the few seconds I had known him I already knew I liked Leif, with his kind eyes and playful humor. Despite the fact he had punctuated his last sentence with a wink, I perceived nothing but friendship from him.

I sat down, expecting Leif to take the seat next to me. So I was surprised when he made his way to the other side of the table and sat next to the pastel-skinned girls, flashing me his pearly whites once more. I exhaled, feeling my muscles tense tightly beneath my skin as I toyed with the airy white tablecloth, feeling the silence tear away at my sanity.

Pulling my chair closer to the table, I realized how heavy it was. The smooth polished stone scraped against the floor even as I attempted to pick it up, my teeth scraping against my lip equally as roughly. It seemed ridiculous to me that something so simple as a chair could be so ostentatiously luxurious - gold and granite from this one chair alone would feed a family for months back in D4. But the indulgence that ran throughout the train was so completely unfathomable the chair was becoming more and more understandable.

The next scrape to invade the ears of the dining room's occupants was that of a sliding crystalline door near the head of the table.

"Darlingsss!" Stark's voice rang out, her Capitol accent suspiciously strong on the exploited _S_.

I saw Leif roll his eyes before allowing a seemingly-sincere "Hello!" ring along with the excited trills of the pastel girls. Finnick was able to hide his dislike much better, with just a passing look of distaste in his eyes, but nonetheless I caught it. As I tore my eyes away from Finnick and Leif I found the overwhelming presence of blue-skinned Stark was upon me.

"Dearest Annie," She smiled, shaking her head and clasping her hands together. "I'm sure you've been sorely missing the company of your partner since the Reaping, so I brought with me a little treat!"

Without the pomp and grandeur I'm sure Stark was hoping for, the black-haired Amphitrite walked out from behind the door and stood awkwardly at the front of the room, the white-haired Mags not far behind him.

I took the time to stare at the boy in front of me. He was taller then me, but shorter then Finnick. It briefly occurred to me he probably wasn't done growing, but whether or not he would get that time was a whole other matter entirely. His hair wasn't quite jet black, but almost seemed to flicker with a blue-tint as he shifted his weight back and forth. His eyes were a nice, sweet blue. Not quite the ice-blue that Bombay was so obsessed with, but a calming, non-demanding blue. I liked his eyes, despite the cold glaze that went over them. They appeared more uncomfortable than threatening to me. His build seemed overly muscular for his height, which couldn't have been more than 5'10". His cream-coloured sweater embraced his large biceps impressively, and as I trailed my eyes back up to his lightly coloured complexion and cow-licked hair I felt maybe I had met him before. I mean, I knew I had seen him around the District. But I felt like perhaps we had really _met._

"He doesn't need an announcement Stark, we all know who he is." Mags sighed tiredly, rubbing the bridge of her nose in contempt.

Discouraged and obviously a little offended, our vapid escort dropped herself huffily at the far side of the table, next to the only available spot next to Leif. I envied her spot, as I knew either Mags or Amphitrite would take the spot next to me. Not that I didn't like either of them, I didn't even know them, but I would have preferred the laid-back stylist.

Amphitrite continued fidgeting until he was sent to the seat next to me, and I turned my face to him in what I hoped was a welcoming smile. After all, the Games didn't begin for another two weeks. Maybe we could be of some comfort to each other in the days leading up to our induction into the Arena.

He returned my smile with one of his own, but it was small and his eyes still held an air of discomfort. I felt bad for him. He was a year older then me, but I had never seen him around school, which meant he was - at least part-time - a Career. Back in D4 there is only one public school, and if you don't attend it you're either a Career at a "Special Interest" school, you simply don't attend any school at all. And with Amphitrite's large arms I could guess it wasn't the latter.

Pulling me from my thoughts was a sudden garble from my left. Turning, I saw Mags must have been the source of the noise.

"Pardon?" I asked, another polite smile stretching my lips.

"Oh, I was just introducing myself sweetheart. I'm Mags, although I'm sure you know that." Her words aren't cocky, but self-mocking. As she chuckles I can't help but laugh with her.

"Of course I know that, and I'm Annalaese. But you can call me Annie," I add quickly. "All of you, please do. No one calls me Annalaese but my parents." I sweep my eyes across the room in hopes to bring others into the conversation.

"Well, I'm sure we all know who _I_ am." All eyes turn to Finnick, who is sitting in a strangely seductive pose for a dinner setting. His elbow drapes over the chair lazily, his body tilted and eyes sparkling, a smirk on his face.

"Well, of course Finnick!" Stark agrees excitedly, placing a hand on his and smiling with an overload of verve, her eyes misty with adoration. It's so ridiculously hopeless the room grows warm with flushing cheeks.

Amphitrite, who was taking a sip of his water silently before this amorous exchange, tries to stifle a laugh, which leads him to choke on the cold liquid, sending him into a coughing spasm.

I can't help but bite my lip in an attempt to ward off the giggle that threatens to escape my dried lips. We exchange conspiratorial glance before turning back to the table.

Stark and Finnick eye us, she with a slight embarrassed-contempt mix and him with a state of smug amusement.

Leif, however, is less successful at taming his hysteria and his knee hits the table as he chokes and bends over, the Pastels refraining from laughter by playing with their hands or hair.

I fear Stark is almost about to cry when another set of doors swing open and everyone's attention is drawn to the heaps of food that are being piled onto the table.

The laughter, however, is only fully silenced as the first bites of indulgence pass our lips.

* * *

><p><strong>Finnick's POV<strong>

Dinner was rather uneventful, with the regular delicacies and even a few laughs. Annie met her beauty crew, as they were actually on board for the trip, which was irregular. Amphitrite would meet his tomorrow, after we entered the Capitol.

_Annie. Why didn't she tell me I could call her Annie beforehand? _My palms tingled, a strange and foreign feeling, as the thought crossed through my mind. I didn't like not being first. She hadn't told me first. I shook my head and brushed the thought out with it.

Mags and I had decided not to go too heavily into Game-oriented talk today, as the next two weeks would be dominated with that conversation. Today, they were weak and emotional, despite the smiles and light laughter. We detailed to them that Mags would be officially mentoring Amphitrite, as I would be the official mentor for Annie; however either could come to us for questions, advice, or specific training. Amphitrite received this with a shrug and continued to pick at his food, while Annie's eyes held a little more surprise as she turned to smile at me.

"I look forward to it, Finnick." She had said sweetly, her eyes genuine. It amazed me how nice she was being to everyone, the shock of being Reaped usually leaves one incapacitated for days before you can smile. But there she was, charming Mags, beguiling the beauticians, even coaxing serious Amphitrite to laugh.

Remembering a joke she had made earlier, one comparing the thick-cut beef to D4's local fish, I chuckled as I opened the door to my quarters. As I entered the elaborately decorated red-and-gold space, my nose was assaulted with a hideously strong floral smell. Sighing, I pulled off my shirt and kicked my shoes into the closet.

_I guess Stark put the air-freshener on blast this time, _I thought, a light smile playing across my face. She was an okay girl, for an escort, although I wouldn't be calling on her anytime soon. She must have been about 25, and while she was conceited and vapid she meant no harm when she made eyes at me. However that didn't mean I had to like it, just tolerate it.

With a sigh I padded to the other side of the room, towards my bed. I heaved my body up, my two legs kicking out from under me simultaneously. When I fell into the bed, it wasn't with the normal plush fabric I met with, but a sharp jab into my lower back.

The surprise of the attack left me cursing with expletives I had learned from the docks, eyes watering lightly. I sat up and spun around, the blankets gathering around me as I pivoted to find the silent assailant.

My body froze. My breath escaped, leaving me with nothing. The one thing I dreaded seeing most was before me.

A rose.

Not just any rose. His rose. His white, horrifyingly perfect rose.

My eyes slipped close, chest tightening, hands clenching. I struggled to contain the rate at which my heart beat and the strength at which my stomach churned.

I thought I was safe. I was mentoring this year, to his request. I had complied with all his previous wishes. I figured I would be left alone to concentrate on my job of getting my tributes out alive. But it still wasn't enough.

There was only one reason for this rose, and I knew it immediately. This rose had thorns, and Snow's roses never had thorns unless it was for one reason. To alert me to a specific time. My hand shaking, I picked up the flower, my fingers aching to drop the disgusting thing as if it were truly poisonous. Slowly, my breath shallow, I began to count the thorns.

_One.. two.. three.. four.. five.. six.. seven.. eight.. nine. Nine._

I turned my attention to the clock. I had little over a half hour till nine.

My stomach had begun to settle, my muscles beginning to relax from their previously tense state. And the numbness began to spread in its place as I plucked the petals one-by-one.

It coiled around my neck, cooling the inside of my mouth like I had inhaled snow. It melted down my throat, the melancholia crawling over my shoulders and squirming in my stomach. It stuck to my ribs. Weighed down my feet.

But I kept plucking.

_Two, four, seven petals. _When I reached the ninth, the uniform block lettering appeared. The same exact font, size, and colour he always used. Small but clear, neat and midnight black. He always hid the name on the inside of an inner petal, at the bottom. So it wouldn't disturb the aesthetics of his calling card.

And in that small black font, in all capital letters, was one word.

**STARK**

* * *

><p>I hope you all liked it! Sorry it took a bit longer to update this time round, school is just draining my energy. Unfortunately, my weekend is even busier so the next chapter might take a bit:| sorry, yet again! Did you guys like my way of communication between Snow and Finnick? I do!<p>

_Please do leave a review if you like what I'm writing! It means SO much and makes writing it feel that much more special!_

An irony from this chapter - when I was writing Leif, Annie's stylist, my inspiration was Lenny Kravitz - I was watching an rerun of SNL a couple weeks ago in which he was the musical guest, and he just popped. Translucent Waters was in it's very, very early stages then, and I hadn't yet seen The Hunger Games official trailer. But, turns out he's playing Cinna in the movie! So, no, it wasn't done on purpose and I hope you don't feel I'm intruding on Suzan Collins'/Gary Ross' territory.


	7. Gilded Cage

Hello again! I got this done WAY faster then I was hoping, so I hope you enjoy it! Warning: There is minor swearing in this chapter, but nothing too horrible. To all my reviewers: Thank you, thank you, thank-you! Other notes: _Urstory_, thanks SO much for reviewing for practically every chapter! It always makes me smile! _Howlynn,_ ugh, you're damn right no one would do that to lovely Finnick. It's just not fair. I will FULLY believe in your theory that it's a misprint! _Pasdoll_, no I LOVE your story! and HA, as if only this was as good as _A drop in the ocean_! So, I JUST reread Finnick's death. Officially. I couldn't see the pages for another 10 minutes cause my eyes were so full of tears. Sigh. What a tragic ending for such a lovely, lovely man. Anywho, I digress - here it is!

_Can't close my eyes  
><em>_They're wide awake  
><em>_Every hair on my body  
><em>_has got a thing for this place,  
><em>_Oh empty my heart,  
><em>_I've got to make room for this feeling  
><em>_so much bigger than me._

Can't Take It In; Imogen Heap.

* * *

><p><strong>FINNICK'S POV<strong>

My face is blank as I stride down the hall, hands clenched tightly at my sides. A million thoughts surge through my head. But that's normal.

_I hate the Capitol. I hate Snow. I hate, __**hate**__ Snow. I will kill Snow._

_I hate Stark; I hate everyone who buys me._

I round the corner.

_I hate myself. _

My fingernails dig into my palm.

_I am disgusting. I am worthless. I should be dead._

I repeat the mantra over and over as my steps melodically hit the floor, as if my brain is determined to keep the words in time with the movement.

_I wish I was dead._

Door 39 is in front of me. Door 39 is Stark's door.

_It would be easier being dead._

I silence my inner self, glancing down at the floor. I take a deep breath. I take another. I know it is a few minutes past 9:00. I know she is waiting for me.

The mask that covers my face is no longer my own. It belongs to other Finnick. Their Finnick. The Finnick they want to see. The glaze that covers my eye is one she will see as lust, but its real purpose is to censor the disgust that hides within. My smile is not my own. It's a smirk they love, one of superiority and sexuality. I perfected it years ago. I know how to slit my eyes, how to move my lips, where to put my hands.

It's all done robotically by now, my body is wary but it knows what must be done. So does my face; it knows when to mimic and when to create. I can hate myself freely inwardly while I have to love them physically.

I knock. She opens the door.

I am leaning against the door frame, shirt stretched tightly over sinewy muscle. My elbow rests against the wall, but as she beckons me into the gilded room I push off with its force. Her eyes hold such excitement I struggle to not pin her aqua body against the neck and strangle her.

Her hands wrap around my neck, setting me on fire. It isn't a good fire. It is scorching. It hurts me. I hate it, I hate her. I want to rip her hands off of me.

For I minute I think about doing it, think about walking out and never looking back. Defying Snow. Defying the Capitol and it's tyranny.

My hesitation does not go unnoticed, and her painted fingers begin to draw out of my hair.

I know this won't do. I don't know if Snow asks for performance reports, but it wouldn't surprise me. Fucking bastard.

I push her against the wall, and she tears at my shirt like an animal. My hands are all over her, as if I can't get enough, as if the curve of her waist and the trembling of her thighs is my sanctuary. She is _not_ my sanctuary.

Her clothes are off. I took them off, growling in her ear. She likes aggression. I give it to her.

I struggle to hold back the black demon inside me. She wants it rough. _I can give her rough._

The demon snaps on its leash, snarling and howling. It whispers to me to hurt her.

I hate her.

I do.

But I can't. I cannot hurt her.

I whip the demon, and it roars, a low guttural sound that resonates through my body. It subsides, for now.

Her body is under me, we're moving in what she believes is one motion. All I can feel is how desperately alone I am. How far away I am from Stark, this false love and passion. Briefly faces of the other buyers flash through my mind, and with each one comes a stab at my heart. A face that doesn't belong in this book of hatred flashes through, and I push it away. I don't know why she came to my mind. Her green eyes don't belong in this place of repulsion. Temporarily, she makes my body stop aching so harshly. I suppose it's because she's pretty.

I still push her image away.

I force myself closer to the blue skin, to roll with her like the waves beat the sand. Tears almost rise to my eyes, the physical torture of being with her. It's worse than normal. My hands start stinging as I run them over her. When she isn't looking I bring them to my eyes, checking for a rawness that would explain the pain. There is none. _It's so very much worse than normal._

When she is done, her face contorts with bliss and she grasps my body with claw-like hands one last time.

I roll over. She sighs. She runs her hands up and down my abs. It tingles, but not pleasantly. I turn on my stomach and a real smile almost lies underneath my false one. This was the time I got my revenge. On her, on the Capitol. On Snow. Face drawn close to hers, breath hot, I ask that one simple question that means so much.

_"Do you have any secrets worth sharing?" _

* * *

><p><strong>ANNIE'S POV<strong>

Laughing, Leif drapes a hand across my shoulder.

"I think we really did well today." He smiles and I can't help but return it. Leif's smile is infectious like that.

"Thank-you so much for this, Leif. It means so much to me that you want my opinion." It really did mean a lot. I had seen previous District 4 tributes before. I had seen how many of our girls were shoved into uncomfortable sea-shell bras and little else, smiling awkwardly all the while.

So when Leif had approached me after dinner and asked if I would like to do an outfit consultation, I couldn't help but be surprised. The even more surprising thing, he had meant it. The past hour had revolved not only around my choice of fabric and colour, but Leif and the Pastels figuring out my personality in order to accurately portray it in clothes.

Of course, I knew the Pastels names now. But when I mentioned the nickname I had given them, they were too ecstatic and enforced that I continue on calling them by the generalized term. It made me feel slightly uncomfortable, but they assured me I could call them by their real names one-on-one.

The first to introduce herself had been Antoinette, who prided herself on her light pink skin. She was slim and relatively unchanged apart from her painted body, and really very pretty. Her hair was a creamy blonde, perfectly coiffed to end just above her chin. Her face was trusting and she gushed over my hair.

"We _never_ get pretty tributes," She had confided conspiratorially. "You're the first in, like, forever!"

The next was Flicker, who was a few shades lighter than Stark's azure blue. She had feline eyes that constantly searched you, leaving you feeling almost vulnerable to her inquiring gaze. She was just as outgoing as Antoinette, squeezing me tightly to her large bosom after a short introduction.

Petal was the last to approach me, and with her lavender-coloured skin I couldn't help but comment on how appropriate her name was. With that, apparently I had solidified our friendship, because she squealed and began to cover my entire face with light, airy kisses.

They were all beautiful girls, a few years older than me and with a very different mindset, but despite their obsession with beauty and the Games, they were very sweet. They kept telling me how beautiful I was, how exciting I would be to work with. Leif eventually quieted them down my starting the interviewing process, sentencing them to diligent note-taking and sketching as I answered his questions.

"We're going to make you look so gorgeous!" Petal called after me as I was accompanied out the door by my stylist.

"Not that you aren't already!" Antoinette made sure to blurt after her, as if Petal's reassurance would offend me.

"I know you will!" I called back, waving goodbye over Leif's shoulder.

"Go try and rest kid, we'll be at the Capitol within the hour." The jade eyes winked at me before his body spun and returned to his pastel-coloured adorers.

Laughing softly, I shook my head and began to make my way back to my room.

_Capitol within the hour -_

The noise was an echo, barely detectable within the confines of my twisting mind. It wasn't my voice that had spoken, but nonetheless I heard the words as if they had been.

"Within the hour," I whispered to myself, imaging the strange faces and structures I would see upon arrival. It began to occur to me how very real this whole ordeal really was. The Opening Ceremony, which I had been forced to stay up late for years at a time, would hold my image this time. District 4 would be watching my face. I was their representation. And who would I be?

I decided I should find Finnick. He would help me. And it was about time I apologized for my earlier moodiness.

The train rattled precariously as I crossed from one car to the next, the one which held Finnick, Mags, and Stark's chambers. It was identical to the one that housed me and Amphitrite, with red carpet and ornate gold ornaments decorating the wall. The lights were off in this hall however, and with the sun's light almost completely faded, the whole train was bathed in twilight.

I passed several doors, marked 35 - 40. I struggled to remember Finnick's room number, and his voice rang through my head in response -

_"I'm in room forty-three," He grinned, handing me a bowl of sugar cubes. "Just in case you plan on making a late night visit. You know my door's always open."_

Before I could respond he was gone, moving in his ever-silent footsteps.

"Room forty-one.." I whispered, speaking under my breath. "Forty-two..."

The doors were identical, and Finnick's magic forty-three was no exception. Hesitantly, I brought my hand up.

I stopped. _What if he doesn't want to see me? What if he's busy? Asleep?_ Finnick's words began to resonate in my brain - he had said his door would always be open. It may have been said flirtatiously but I doubt he would lie for the sake of teasing me.

I knocked; Once. Twice. Three times.

No response. No shuffling, no voice, no nothing. I stood there, stupefied and unsure of what to do.

"Finnick?" I called out, my voice soft and hoarse. "It's - It's Annie." I thought maybe clarifying my identity would magically make the door fly open. It didn't.

My heart sank, and my stomach began to twist uncomfortably. I curled my toes and bit my lip, pressing my ear to the door. Nothing.

With a sigh and a shrug, I turned around and began down the way I came.

Looking at my feet and absorbed in my thoughts, I almost didn't hear the door open and shut softly in front of me.

But I did look up.

It was dark, his visage was distorted, his body just a silhouette. But immediately I knew it was him. But that room - it wasn't his, was it?

"Finnick?" I question, my head cocking. "Is that you?"

The dark image brings his face from the floor to my own, and I can't quite see his eyes, even as he moves towards me.

"Annie?" His voice is disbelieving and a little unnerved, far from his normal purr. I decide I like his voice better this way.

"Yeah," I laugh. "I was just looking for you!" I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips, it rises involuntarily as my body recognizes I found the person I've been looking for.

"Oh? Whatever for?" There it is again, he's recovered from me shocking him and is back to his flirt-voice. I can't help but giggle at his sudden change in tone.

"What?" By now he's right in front of me, and I can just make out his disheveled appearance.

"Your voice, it's always changing." I say, observing him earnestly. He really intrigues me.

His response is a beat too late. "Well, I'm an ever-changing man." He smiles, and it seems genuine - until he steps into the light.

His sea-green orbs, which are only a few shades darker than mine, are squinting at me in what he obviously thinks is sensual. And it is - but there's something else. It's not the _look_ his eyes are giving but what is actually_ in_ his eyes. It's sad. Horribly melancholy and confused. Why?

I decide to temporarily ignore it. Perhaps I'm imagining it.

"Uh, I just really wanted to say I'm say for how I acted earlier today. I don't know why I was so moody."

His eyes temporarily fill with genuine surprise. Soon they reglaze. _Why do they do this? Why doesn't he like emotion?_

"Really?" The voice is not his Capitol rumble, but the other. "I can't imagine why. I was much worse after my Reaping," He admits, and I can't help but be interested as he reveals a fact from his past. It was the first time he'd really said anything about himself all day.

Immediately after he realizes he's done so, he clams up and his eyes get an extra coat of vacancy.

"So you were upset too?" This small factoid from his past has peaked my interest and I can't seem to let it go.

"Why are you creeping out to my room at such a late hour, Annie?" He turns the conversation back on me. "Lonely, perhaps? Surely that wasn't the only reason for this lovely visitation." His body suddenly is pressing into mine.

Electricity shoots through every limb, and it's hard to pull myself off of him. _I suppose it's just... he's so beautiful. _

"No, that was it!" I smile, swallowing hard.

"How disappointing." His smirk is back on his face. This would be an idealistic point to end the conversation, but my body doesn't want to walk away just yet.

"I guess I had your room number wrong, huh? I thought you were over there," I laughed, pointing over my shoulder.

He shifts his weight. "No, that's my room." His face reveals nothing, so I'm left with shock.

"Oh," I quickly try to figure out where else he could have been. Only Mags and Stark have rooms in this compartment. The others are for supplies and such.

His rumbled clothes... his bronze hair in a tangle.. Stark at dinner...

_Oh._

He sees the realization cross my face but does nothing about it, simply shifting his weight again. But the pain is in his eyes again, this time much stronger.

"Are you alright?" I can't help but ask. It's in my nature.

"Don't I look alright?" He raises an eyebrow and once again comes towards me. "_I_ think I do."

I search his gaze back and forth, but it reveals nothing more.

"Melancholia doesn't suit you, Finnick." A smile plays across my lips.

His eloquent eyes hold unbarred confusion as I'm moving past him. "We're arriving at the Capitol within the hour!" I spin around to say, careful I don't hit anything while walking backwards. "So I'll see you again soon." I can't look at him anymore. I don't know why.

He doesn't respond, and we continue our separate ways down the hall.

Although I don't look, Stark's door enters my peripheral vision.

I can't seem to fight the aching in my chest as I pass by.

* * *

><p><strong>Ahhhh, angst-y Finnick and jealous Annie! Don't you just love it? Make sure to read this: the thing about Annie is, she's good at reading people. She is a genuinely caring person, and she sees Finnick as a person and not as handsome Hunger Games Victor. She she sees what Finnick is really feeling in his eyes because she's actually looking. His lovers, Snow, the Capitol - they see his outwards facade because they want to. Annie can tell when he is putting on his flirt voice and covers his real emotions. She's not superhuman, she's just a good soul.<strong>

**And how did you like my quixotic foreshadowing?: _I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips, it rises involuntarily as my body recognizes I found the person I've been looking for. _YAY FOR SOULMATESSSS!**

**Please review if you liked this chapter - _I'm especially anxious with Finnick's POV because it was a writing style I haven't really used before_. So let me know if you did or didn't like it! And any subtleties you found in this chapter, do leave them in a review! I want to see how observant you guys really are;)**


	8. Dangerous Smile

**_OKAY, I did originally post this yesterday but I realized I hated it and had to redo it. So sorry, sorry, sorry!_**

Sorry guys, my internet has been crashing and I can barely get on here! This chapter is a freaking long filler, but it needed to be written. I promise exciting stuff _will_ happen.. but this is still just the first day of the story!** I don't own anything** - well, partially Leif and Wichita and the Pastels.. and Amphitrite. But other then that, it's all Suzan Collins'!

_And she live in a mindset that I could never move to_  
><em>Until you find yourself it's impossible to lose you<em>

Houstatlantavegas; Drake

* * *

><p><strong>ANNIE'S POV<strong>

I was in my room when the first flashes of Capitol-induced light shined across my heavy-lidded eyes. Even before I looked out the window I knew what the cause was - only something as glorious as the Capitol could cause such a display. The glimpses of the shimmering, towering metropolis was something no regular teenager wished to see, because the things associated with Snow and his domain were as sinister as the city was beautiful.

Nonetheless, I was drawn to the window like a moth to a flame.

The wind was knocked right out of me.

I had seen clips of this on TV - but the actual image... the grandeur, the size, the _light_, was unlike anything I had ever imagined.

My hands pressed up against the window, nose squished against the glass as I drunk in the sights greedily.

The train may have continued to speed along at the normal pace, but to me everything seemed to move slower. Time itself was beginning to halt, because everything around me started to look exaggeratedly sluggish. The few sparse trees that we passed morphed strangely, branches clinging to the little space my eyes could take in before being sucked away by an invisible force.

I could hear several knocks on hard wood, but it seemed very far away. Wherever the knock was coming from, it wasn't my door. I continued to stare out the window at my destination.

Suddenly my name was spoken very close to me, and a hand was placed on my elbow.

I jerked back instinctively, my heart pounding at the surprise.

It was Finnick.

"Annie, it's time to go. The train stops in less than a minute." His voice was quiet and hoarse, his eyes confused, although apparently unable to meet mine. I could only nod in response.

My thoughts jumbled as I reached for my sweater, which I had tossed on my bed, before I realized it wasn't there anymore.

"Where's my -"

"Oh, I already have it!" This time the voice wasn't Finnick's. I looked to my left, to find Leif standing there, and indeed clutching the cream-coloured wool sweater.

My eyebrows creased, wondering when Leif had entered, but as a cold hand placed itself on my shoulder and began to push me out the door, I didn't have time to contemplate his sneaky entrance. Or, for that matter, how Stark, Antoinette, Petal, Amphitrite _and_ Flicker had entered without me noticing.

"Now, for the first time in ages, I have a pair of attractive, fit tributes! And I won't let you go to waste, so come here you!" Stark's shrill voice called out to Amphitrite, her left hand already guiding me.

"Both of you smile and wave! Amphitrite, get your hands out of your pockets! Annie, dear, _do_ stop looking so horribly confused. Finnick, if you could -"

The rest of her tirade I didn't hear, either because she had lowered her voice or I simply did not want to hear it anymore. Not that I had enough concentration to listen to her, as Antoinette's fingers battled with my hair and Petal and Flicker pulled at my clothes, impervious to my discomfort. Leif was shouting something over my head to Stark, and she in retaliation narrowed her eyes and hissed something back to him. Mags was watching with real sadness in her eyes as we were herded like cattle. And Finnick... where _was_ Finnick?

I craned my neck around, desperate to catch a glimpse of my mentor. He would know what to do. He was an expert with the Capitol crowd, surely he could tell me something that would calm my nausea and ease the frightening anxiety that was building up.

And there he was, directly behind me, motioning for Mags to join him. Desperately, my body being trampled on all sides, Amphitrite and I being squashed together, I tried to keep my feet moving as I waited for him to look back at me.

Finally, when I had almost given up, he did. Just briefly. Enough for him to see the pain and confusion in my eyes.

"Smile!" He shouted, the din of the shouting photographers becoming overwhelming as the train's doors creaked open. "But not too much! Be a -" his words were distorted. "sweet!" Was the only other word I caught as Stark squeezed between us and the blinding lights of the cameras consumed my vision once again.

* * *

><p><strong>SCOPE REDDER'S POV [PHOTOGRAPHER]<strong>

District 4's tributes were impressive this year, I had to say. My elbows flung out instinctually as I glimpsed the attractive faces exiting the train. The more attractive the tribute, the more the picture was worth - every photographer here knew that. And so far these two were the best-looking pair yet.

The boy was steely and determined, his body tan and muscular. But his eyes were his best feature, and not because of the colour - because they contained the self assurance most Careers from D4 exuded. The Capitol loved a good Career. The girl, however, was much different from her partner.

She certainly was no Career - unless she _was_, but hiding it behind an innocent wide-eyed dove angle. Because that's exactly what she looked like. Her eyes, unlike her partner's, were filled with wonder and a slight sadness. Her skin was pale, especially for someone from D4, but not in a sickly way. She was apparently just the kind of person who didn't tan. You learned to judge these things as a photographer - sometimes gamblers asked us paparazzi our impression of a tribute before placing a bet. We see things no one else does.

Her hair was long, her body short but lithe. She would be just fine with sponsors, by my judgement.

She seemed mesmerized by our lenses, and as she passed a small smile grew on her face, encouraged by our shouts, and she waved slightly. We went crazy as she did, and a laugh escaped her lips at our hysteria.

However, when her concentration dropped, so did her coordination, and her foot caught with a snag in the concrete. The boy next to her was quick, however, and he grabbed her arm before she could topple any further.

They had almost become out of sight when she looped her arms through his and smiled gratefully.

* * *

><p><strong>ANNIE'S POV<strong>

"Thank-you Amphitrite!" I whispered to him appreciatively.

"No problem, Annie." He replied, eyeing me with curiosity. He seems to struggle with whether or not to say something before he continues, despite his previous resistance.

"If the photographers loved me that much, I would have been stumbling too." A slight smile crept onto his normally serious face, lighting it up.

I couldn't help but throw back my head and laugh, looping my arm through his. My laugh pleased him, because a real grin broke out on his face before he turned his eyes to the ground and attempted to return to his regular stoic visage.

Before I could utter another word, we're being wrenched apart, Leif and the Pastels grabbing at me while other foreign, brightly painted women pull at him.

"It's time to get ready," Leif pats my back sympathetically. "You'll see him when you're both done."

"But, I -"

"Just trust me Annie." He smiles, looking down at me. "But we've got to get going, we're already behind schedule!"

Before I know it we're in a cold silver room, sparkling and shimmering with big lights and pristine metal.

I'm instructed to remove my clothes, and Leif leaves the room before I can blush at his presence.

Antoinette coaxes me to lay down on the central table, and I arch my back as the cold assaults my unprotected body.

"I know it's cold sweetheart," She smiles, her hair bobbing as she begins to place white paper strips along my body. "But these will light you right on fire."

And indeed they do. Each girl takes a section of my body, and they press the innocent-looking strips all over me before ripping them up with such force it brings tears to my eyes. The girls are constantly echoing the word _sorry!,_ and along with the sound of hair being torn from skin it's all I can hear. I learn this magically painful thing is called "waxing".

"At least you don't have much hair!" Petal smiles empathetically, nearly letting out waterworks of her own as she catches a glimpse of the tears in my eyes.

"Exactly, darling, it could be so much worse!" Flicker nods over my head, her blue skin entering my vision briefly.

When they're done with turning my body into a hairless wonder, they turn their attention to my face. After some oohing and aahing, they decide to do minimal work because "one can only improve so much!"

My eyebrows sting, my body stings, my head aches from the thousands of times Petal's brush ran through my hair - and I can't help but feel surely this is training for the pain we would be feeling in the Arena!

I voice my thoughts, and they laugh hysterically before continuing on, assuring me it's not.

Among the numerous unimportant jokes I make throughout the unceremonious ripping of hair, I manage to strangle out one question.

"Where'd Leif go?"

"Oh, he's readying your outfit!" They titter excitedly, the verve almost visibly running in their veins. "And, oh, you're just going to _love_ it!"

That's the only explanation I get, because after that I'm hushed once again to begin the more intricate beautification process.

I can feel my hair being swept off the nape of my neck, being swept into a surely intricate hairdo. Shimmering creams are loaded onto my body, coating it thoroughly until I've become a sticky mess. Flicker then rubs glitter into my body until I can feel my skin going raw from the friction.

"Too bad she's too young for tattoos," Antoinette sighs. "She would look just _darling_ with a few gold ones!"

I can't help but feel the slightest bit relieved that I haven't yet turned eighteen. At least I would spare myself the embarrassment of ludicrous swirls running down my face in metallic colours.

Just as I'm settling into their poking and prodding, they announce I am officially ready to go see Leif.

I sit up, back creaking as I do, and begin to turn to the reflective surface to my right.

_"NO!" _I'm admonished, three pairs of painted hands covering my eyes at once. "You can't look till Leif has you in costume!"

"Alright, alright," I laugh, fluttering my hands at theirs' in an attempt to restore my vision. "I won't look, I promise!"

"Okay," Flicker sighs cautiously, eyeing me with raised eyebrows. "You better not! We didn't work so hard to have it spoiled prematured."

The other girls nod in agreement, apparently not noticing Flicker's lack of proper grammar.

"I understand, don't you -" They're out of the room without so much as a sound. _Damn, how is everyone doing that?_

"Are you ready, Annalaese Cresta?"

My head shoots up instinctively as Leif's voice echoes throughout the room. His tone is as playful as the half-smile on his face, jade eyes dancing.

I'm suddenly very aware of how very naked I am. Blushing, my hands shoot up to cover myself.

"Don't worry, I've seen it all." He chuckles, walking towards me, hands behind his back. His reassurance doesn't lessen my discomfort, however, and my blush only grows deeper.

"Just move your hands, Annie." His voice is quiet, trying to soothe me. "I've got to get you into this thing."

The next few minutes are spent manoeuvring me into a strange contraption, a bikini of sorts, glittering green-and-blue diamonds cut to look like scales covering the entirety. The bikini in itself wasn't strange, but the hooks and harnesses attached to it were. When I asked Leif about it, he simply grinned and continued strapping me in.

"Now close your eyes," He licked his lips, focusing on his work. I did as I was told.

I was expecting to feel my legs buckle as the attachment went over my shoulders, but whatever it was that Leif had designed, weight almost nothing.

"Not quite yet," He whispered when I began to lift my eyelids.

His hands hold my hips steady with a vice-like grip, and a series of _clicks _were audible as more of the additions were snapped into place.

"Okay," He breathed. "Now."

* * *

><p><strong>FINNICK'S POV<strong>

"Oh, you worry too much. _This_ is not the part to be concerned about. That comes in two weeks."

My eyebrows practically flew off my forehead.

"Are you kidding? We both know the initial reaction they get from the crowd is vital!"

Why Mags is discrediting the Opening Ceremony I really don't know. We learned our lesson in underwhelming a crowd three years ago when neither one of our tributes received a single sponsor. A simple Chariot outfit and boring interview had seen to that.

"Finnick," She places a weathered hand on my shoulder. "Wichita has excellent skills as a designer, and Leif is beyond reproach when it comes to dramatic outfits. And besides, anything done today can be undone at the interview."

Her soft brown eyes and encouraging words finally allow me to ease myself into my seat, even though I still can't seem to sit still or focus on one thought.

It doesn't help that the splitting headache from an hour ago still hasn't ceased.

"You're right," I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "You're right."

"I know I am," She rubs my back, and although it is a normally soothing maternal gesture it doesn't ease my anxiety. "Annie will be a hit," She whispers.

"We all saw the Reaping broadcasts. She's the prettiest girl in the Arena. They'll flock to her," She pauses. "To us."

"But is it enough?" I can't help but ask, my voice practically a whisper.

"We'll see." She doesn't try to patronize me, or give me false hope with her answer. That's why it's so easy to talk to Mags, because she wouldn't ever lie to you.

"By the way, have you seen Annie do anything like what happened on the train before we arrived?"

My heart skips a beat.

"If she has, you know what that means, Finnick. It's a liability in the Arena..." She trails off, not needing to speak the rest of the words out loud. I know what she means. If Annie is constantly spacing out like that - like she did on the train, twice, and after her Reaping - it could mean death in the Hunger Games. It would mean turning our attention to Amphitrite to get out alive.

"No, not that I've seen." I force myself to look Mags in the eyes. "She was probably just out of it. I mean, how normal are any of us after being Reaped?"

I don't know what compelled me to lie to Mags. I _never_ lie to Mags. To everyone else, sure, but never her.

_It's __**my**__ duty to keep __**my**__ tribute alive. _

That's what I tell myself. That's the story I'm sticking to.

Before Mags can respond, the ritualistic trumpet goes off, signaling the start of the Opening Ceremony. Settling into my seat, my heart seems to pound out of my chest as I grip at the leather armrests.

A hush falls over the crowd as the gates open, but the roar of their excitement is reinstated once the squeaks of chariot wheels are heard.

District 1 piles out, draped in luxurious white furs befitting their District's products, receive a huge reception - yelling, screaming citizens chant their names and rain objects down on their heads to personify their love.

District 2 soon follows, with a pair of dark-haired big-muscled Careers that will surely be a threat carrying large masonry hammers and covered in little cloth.

District 3 is next, in a sincerely underwhelming first appearance - their outfits consist of simple clothes lit up with a few wires, and the tributes that fill out the lackluster garments are just as plain. _It's a shame, really. They have so much wiggle room with design, but they never seem to grasp it._

Mags hand finds my own, and soon we've laced them together tightly, fingertips going white.

We're next.

My breathing is ragged, and I have to force myself to focus my slowly blurring eyes. The room seems deafeningly quiet.

Until the chariot of District 4 wheels out, and the whole room is suddenly electrified. People are on their feet, shouting and shaking their fists. I'm among them, even before I spot their tiny faces. My throat already feels sore, my head pounding from the noise. My eyes can barely find the small figures, but when they do, I can finally see what's causing such a stir.

_They're __**fish!**_

But not just any fish. Glorious, dangerous, _sexy_, fish. They shimmer and gleam as if water makes their translucent skin glisten, scales peak out of their flesh as if they had grown overnight.

Their faces remain humanoid, with just a dusting of green and blue around the edges. While the fabrics are soft and flowing, there is an undeniable air of danger around it. Every corner is sharp, every line screaming some kind of hidden peril. Attached to the hips of our tributes are large fins, along with even bigger ones down their arms. So big, in fact, I can see Annie has to hold her arms up to even fit in the chariot. Oh. Annie._ Oh_.

Yet another reason the crowd is going wild - her slim physique is practically up for sale. Her breasts are pushed up to a ridiculous height, gleaming with oils. Her stomach, even while completely covered in glittering scales, cannot hide her tiny waist or curved hips. Her legs are more efficiently covered with a transparent, gauze-like material spattered with green-and-blue diamonds, but nonetheless they are displayed to their best ability, small thighs glistening.

The men around the arena leer and stamp their feet, pulling off bracelets and throwing them overhead. I can't help but grit my teeth and clench my fists when a male Capitol citizen nearby whistles and begins thrusting his pelvis raucously. _Fuck you all, _my inner voice snarls. But I can't say it out loud - oh no, of course I can't. They're the ones who will send the most expensive gifts once Annie and Amphitrite are in the Arena - I can't piss them off now. Instead of satisfying my inner cravings, I focus on deep breathing, watching the overhead screen.

The cameras focus on our chariot, eliciting a huge response from the crowd. _They love them._

The remaining chariots pass by without near so much as a reception, much thanks to Annie and Amphitrite's natural blessings.

"They've done it," Mags whispered to me excitedly as we raced down the hall, as fast as her aging legs would take her. "They really have a shot this year, Finnick!" Her eyes are glassy with tears at this development.

As cynical as I was, even I had to admit it. It _was_ a great reception. Even Johanna Mason had clapped a hand on my shoulder, saying - not without a tinge of jealousy - _Well, Odair, looks like you've actually brought me some competition this year._

So why wasn't I happy about it?

* * *

><p><strong>OHHH POSSESSIVE FINNICK AND SLIGHTLY NOT-THERE ANNIE? Heck yeah.<strong>

... I still hate this chapter. But I can't think of anything else to do.. so hopefully you guys were able to deal with it!

Did you guys like Scope's POV? I added it as a break, but I doubt we'll hear from that paparazzo again! I know this was a long and pretty boring chapter, but review and I'll get the next one up faster:D The next update should be Annie's POV while in the chariot and Finnick and Annie talking afterwords. Fun fun fun;)!

Please give me an idea of what you'd like to see in the story; less Annie POV, more Annie, more Finnick, less Finnick.. more Omniscient POV, y'know. Always helps when I know what the audience wants! Reviews always appreciated!

**ANNIE'S OUTFIT**: .


	9. Faithfully Fraught

Hey guys, sorry for the slow update! I'm very excited for y'all to read this new chapter! THANKS SOOO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO HAS REVIEWED, IT REALLY MAKES MY DAY!

I know the link didn't work last time, so here's a photo of Annie's outfit (just remove the spaces!): h t t p : / / f o t o s . f o t o f l e x e r . c o m / c 2 1 a 9 6 7 c 2 3 f f d e e 9 5 7 2 7 b 1 5 b b 0 7 2 4 4 e 3 . j p g

_I was blown away._  
><em>What could I say?<em>  
><em>It all seemed to make sense.<em>  
><em>You've taken away everything,<em>  
><em>And I can't deal with that.<em>  
><em>I try to see the good in life,<em>  
><em>But good things in life are hard to find.<em>

It's Not Over; Daughtry

* * *

><p><strong>ANNIE'S POV<strong>

"Okay," he breathed. "Now."

The second the word left his lips, my eyes flew open to take in whatever lay before me.

After one look my breath escaped, and I took a step back to distance myself from the alien creature that was certainly not me.

It wasn't...Was it?

The girl - no, _woman_ - before me was everything I was not. She was dangerous, lethal, foreign and sexy. I was certainly none of those. I was innocent, sweet and familiar. I was approachable. This woman, this fish-human hybrid, was everything but. With the angular makeup and pointed headpiece, the face of this crossbreed was both seductive and otherworldly. I couldn't make sense of it. Surely the svelte, shimmering body didn't belong to me!

But when I moved, she moved. When I twitched, so did she. And finally, when I began to turn to Leif to question my existence, she did too.

"I know, it's not very _you_." He added quickly, hands on my shoulders to convince me of the mirage. "But that's the whole point!"

My eyebrows furrowed. "I'm sorry Leif, I don't get it. It's not that this isn't _amazing_, but -"

"Think of it this way," He placed a cool hand on my lower back and began to steer me out the room. "I know who you are, Annie. And I know you don't think of yourself as anything this outfit represents - but the Capitol doesn't know that. Panem doesn't know that. And they don't have to! You are going to show them the whole package, starting with tonight. Tonight, you are dangerous and sexy. At the interview, you are sweet and innocent. In the Games - well, that's up to you. But until then, the world is going to see that you are everything they're looking for. Even if that means we have to fake it!"

His excited soliloquy ended with a flourish of his hands when we pushed through sliding metallic doors into a unusually busy room. It was all I could do to process what he was saying as I surveyed my surroundings. There were people everywhere, swarming like flies. Tributes and stylists crammed into groups, whispering madly and straightening out glittering skirts and tunics.

The faces of almost everyone in the entire room jerked to us as we entered. Somehow I got the impression we were late.

Several gaped. Stylists' faces grew cold and sickly, tributes clammed up and visibly flew into a huff. Somehow observed me with silent eyes, but most visibly ruffled at my appearance.

My cheeks felt as if they were going to burst into flames I was blushing so intensely.

"They're jealous," Leif whispered excitedly. "Annie, we've done it!"

"You've done it, Leif." I smiled softly.

His eyes looked dewy for a moment, and I couldn't quite decipher why. "Thank-you, sweetheart. Now unfortunately we've got to get you onto the damned chariot."

It was easy to spot this year's D4 chariot among the other Districts'. For one, it was shaped like a giant seashell, shining white with seaweed tangled around it, and two, there was a boy in a getup almost identical to mine already in it.

Amphitrite turned as we approached, evidently hearing my heels clack against the floor. His eyes widened when he caught site of me.

"A-Annie? You, look, um... wow." He swallowed hard. "Different." I could only laugh at his stunned expression as he stood there, extending his hand shakily to help me into the chariot.

"You're going to catch some mighty big crab in that trap of yours," I tapped at his chin in jest, and he promptly shut his mouth, blushing.

Before he could respond, giant doors in front of us creaked open, and the roar of an obnoxious audience startled us both into silence. The wheels of District 1's chariot began to creak as they peeled out into the circular stadium.

My mouth was suddenly very dry, my heart thumped in my chest.

"Did Finnick say anything to you about how we should act?" Amphitrite turned to me, having to yell in my ear of the noise of the crowd.

"I don't think so," I frantically searched my mind for anything, but I knew he hadn't. "Did Mags?" I knew my eyes were wild with concern and fright when I turned to him, and he squeezed my upper arm in reassurance.

"Yeah," He was full-on shouting by now, as the horses were drawing us closer to the door. "Interact and seem confident. But as if we're above it all." His blue eyes met mine, and I nodded in understanding.

District 3 was already out the door. There was no one between us and the crowd now. Everything seemed to hush before we entered, either because D3 had bored them or they were already running out of energy. And dear Poseidon did I hope it wasn't the latter.

The world exploded as we drew into the lights of the stadium. The noises and lights amplified tenfold, leaving Amphitrite and I almost immediately blind and deaf. But we both knew what it meant. _They liked us_.

Wherever we went, the camera followed, every gesture and wave from us elicited both sighs and hoots of pleasure respectively.

As I turned to blow a kiss at a nearby group, I could see a pod of seriously inebriated men shouting and gesturing to each other, all eyes glazed over while looking at my body.

I was so close to leaning over the side of the chariot and letting the contents of my stomach spill onto the sand. Looking around, I noticed almost all the men doing the same thing. I squeezed my eyes shut momentarily, hoping to block their images out.

Sea green eyes rose to my blank mind without summon, and the lids flew off my own orbs as they did.

Where was Finnick? Was he doing what all these miscreants were?

I doubted it. Despite his reputation for flirtation I just couldn't picture the svelte man doing something so degrading.

I continued waving and smiling to the crowd, but allowed my thoughts to wander freely as we continued the circle.

Immediately my mind went to the moment I had seen him coming out of Stark's door. Even before I had acknowledged it I knew where he had been - I just hadn't wanted to believe it.

Why had he been with her? Where they together? We had all seen the look she gave him at dinner... Maybe they were in a relationship.

Somehow this last thought was like acid on my tongue, and I jerked away from it in reflex. But despite my instinct, the parasitic idea clung to me.

Why would he do that? Why? My body began to go red hot, and it wasn't from the heat of the spotlight.

_Calm down Annie, _I told myself. _You don't know anything._

I couldn't help but think I already knew too much.

* * *

><p><strong>FINNICK'S POV<strong>

My eyes were immediately drawn to the shimmering green-and-blue figures in the middle of the room. Despite the mass of highly decorated tributes surrounding them, they literally seemed like the only two fish in the sea.

"There they are," I turned to Mags and pointed my finger.

She squinted slightly before nodding and continuing in the room, and I was quick to overtake her.

"Annie!" I called out, the name leaving my throat more urgently then I had hoped.

She turned to me, eyes flashing several sets of emotion before settling on relief.

"Oh, hey Finnick!" She grinned, bounding towards me. "So it was good, right? They liked us?"

"They loved you," I smiled. "Especially you." I glanced up and down, surveying her once more. Yes, they certainly had loved her.

She blushed and looked down. "Well that's, ah, good I suppose." She laughed nervously before turning her eyes to me conspiratorially.

"I think I looked a little bit ridiculous, but don't tell Leif that. A bit like a fish out of water." Her eyes sparkled as she allowed the pun to slide out of her glistening lips.

My shoulders shook as I chuckled, looking at the floor. "No, but uh, you looked good Annie. Really good." I turned my face back up to her and smiled slightly, my palms sweating.

_Why can't I say that to her without getting nervous? _It must be because she's a tribute.

She blushed and bit her lip, looking at her feet, now devoid of their high-heeled prison.

"Thanks." Her response was simple and quiet, but it pleased me to hear her accept my compliment.

"You're welcome." My mouth went to smirk, but before it could it turned upwards into a genuine smile.

_She reacts better that way_, I told myself.

Her face turned upwards to meet mine, and she flashed her perfect teeth at me once again.

_Well, I suppose she's got a nice smile._

I opened my mouth to ask her if I could escort her to her new room when Caesar Flickerman's well-known voice began to echo throughout the room.

"Congratulations tributes,"

Everyone looked up in surprise, trying to find the source of the floating voice.

"You were all such a hit, and everyone looked so very lovely! Of course, I can't wait to interview you all! However, that's not what this announcement is about."

Annie and I exchanged puzzled looks.

"Since we have so many wonderfully attractive tributes this year, President Snow has come up with a brilliant idea - "

Snow? A brilliant idea? I nearly snorted. He can't even announce it himself, how brilliant could it be?

"Along with the normal pre-Hunger Games interview this year, there will be a dance of sorts. A pageant, if you will. However, because this pageant will be extra time, possibly interfering with training, it is optional."

Caesar's tone was heavy as he ended his sentence.

"But this is an opportunity for each and every one of you to display yourself for the best. While it is up to you to decide whether or not you will participate, do remember there will be plenty of possible sponsors at the event. All those interested will receive further instruction after the first training session. Well, I simply cannot wait to meet you all, and may the odds _ever_ be in your favour! See you all soon!"

With that, Caesar's voice flicked off and we were all left in confusion.

"What do you think, Finnick?" Annie's voice drew me out of my thoughts as she eyed me, her tone innocent.

What did I think? If Snow was behind it, I was bound to hate it.

* * *

><p><em>Ohhh, a dance? Whatever could that mean? SORRY it took so long to update, my internet is just horrible right now! Hope you all enjoyed it!<em>

_Thanks SO MUCH to everyone who has reviewed - YOU ARE THE REASON I'M STILL WRITING! Please leave a review or comment on what you're liking so far! They're so much appreciated!_


	10. Losing All Identity

Hello to you all! Love to all my reviewers, especially the consistent ones (you know who you are!) Although I got a less-than-average number of reviews last chapter, I seriously hope you guys still like this! AND ON A SIDE NOTE. UH, OMG, I JUST LEARNED ABOUT TRAFFIC STATS. I hadn't clicked that button until yesterday! So I've had over 2,000 hits and like 630 visitors! I have no clue if this is good or even standard (_Translucent Waters_ if my only story on here - I have no comparison), but I feel proud that so many have even glanced at my little story3 :')

**_TO EVERYONE: I WILL HAVE SOME VERY IMPORTANT QUESTIONS AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER. IF YOU WANT A SAY IN HOW THIS STORY IS GOING TO BE DONE, ANSWER THEM PRETTY PLEASE WITH SUGAR ON TOP!_**

_Could we be friends,  
>At least until the heartbeats return<br>__And we resist and make sharp turns and slip away _

_I was stranded outside your door,_  
><em>I was waiting for something more,<em>  
><em>And now you've taken this so far<em>  
><em>We'll never make it back to shore. <em>

Getaway Driver; The Ivy Walls.

* * *

><p><strong>FINNICK'S POV<strong>

Snow knew exactly what he was doing. Any tribute in their right mind would participate in the dance - those who didn't lost out on sponsorship and even Capitol favouritism. The dance would be more like an auction then a celebration - tributes paraded out in skimpy outfits and plastered smiles, all to amuse the sick men and women who would bet on their lives.

The demon thrashed on his leash, howling for blood. Snow's blood, to be specific, but it would accept any kind. It held no prejudice, it just wanted to hurt something.

"Finnick?" The soft voice sent the demon back into the depths of its dark prison, whimpering until eventually subsiding entirely.

"You're going to have to do it," I turned my gaze back to half-fish Annie.

She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Yeah, I figured. There's no way around it. I wouldn't mind, but it just means I'm going to be that much more exhausted when I'm in the Arena."

I nodded. Her sentiment was true, the mental and physical strain it would put on her would be taxing, to say the least, but it would have to be done.

"Oh, it'll be fine." My smirk grew on my lips. "We'll get you in a pretty dress and they won't even be able to_ look_ at anyone else." When I reached out to place a hand on her cheek, she tensed up ever-so-slightly and backed away.

She laughed good-naturedly, but I was taken aback.

Nothing's wrong with me. I'm not scary or malicious or even ugly. Why was she moving away? No one _ever_ moved away. I didn't like it.

"Well, we'll see about _that_." She muttered. "I mean, Amphitrite's muscles certainly stole some attention from the Capitol ladies, isn't that right?" She grinned at the oiled-up Career before biting her lip and shaking her head.

My face grew red hot as Amphitrite laughed. Clenching my jaw to keep in sour words, I inhaled deeply through my nose.

When the two stopped laughing Amphitrite turned back to Mags and Annie turned to me.

"Do you think you could take me to my room?" She gave a small smile before adding quickly, "Please. I'm awfully tired."

Deciding to try and be as smooth as possible, I brought my face close to hers and took my lips to her ear.

"Is that an invitation?" I let a small wisp of hot breath escape on her neck, and her body visibly trembled in response.

I played with a loose strand of hair on the nape of her neck before straightening out my back and turning my face to hers.

"If so, I accept." With a raise of one eyebrow and flick of pink tongue over already well-moistened lips, I almost jumped in satisfaction as she blushed and stuttered.

_Try? I __**am**__ smooth. _The smirk that covered my face rose naturally. I still had it.

The shining returns to her eyes as she turns her gaze to her feet and she blushes yet again. Her melodious laugh reverberates off the walls, and my smile increases. It doesn't seem she can quite meet my eyes after my brazen comment, and her innocence makes me chuckle.

A voice rings through my head -

_Enjoy it now. It will be destroyed within the week._

* * *

><p><em><strong>ANNIE'S POV<strong>_

_He said I looked good._

My stomach fluttered as I slowly flickered my eyelashes away from my cheeks and forced my lids open.

_He said I looked really good._

I bit my lip and rolled over, my heart thumping loudly in my chest. Finnick Odair thought I looked good! I gathered handfuls of the silky bed sheets while I giggled, swirling aimlessly in the fabric sea. After several more seconds of indulgence, it occurred to me just how perverse my first thoughts of the day were. Here I was, on the day I would begin my kill-or-be-killed training, thinking about something a pretty boy said.

Without another thought of Finnick's words I sat up and padded to the bathroom, eyes still blinking harshly, resisting against the warm light that filtered into the room through the large windows.

I was reminded briefly of my flirtatious mentor when I glanced in the mirror to see my green eyes, so close in colour to his own. But before he could take over my thoughts once again I admonished myself.

_Quit being so stupid_ I told myself, shaking my head. _Concentrate. There is no reason to think about him. And you're going to stop **right now**._

A knock on my door startled me from my inward conversation.

"Annie?" My heart quickened.

"Yes?" I peered around the corner of the bathroom hesitantly, eyes trained on the entrance to my room.

"It's time for some food to pass through those pretty lips of yours." Of course, the minute I decide to stop thinking about him he shows up.

A smile involuntarily tugged at my lips, but the eye roll was completely voluntary.

After taking long, silent strides to the door I pull it open, the ever-alert Finnick waiting with a smirk. "Then again, I wouldn't mind putting something else on your lips either."

The comment is so ridiculous coming out of his mouth at this hour in the morning that I can't help but throw my head back and laugh. He seems to understand the level of absurdity his statement contains as well, because he soon joins me with a low-pitch, hearty laugh. It rings through my ears like a bird song, and my cheeks warm as I hear it.

It occurs to me this is the first time I've heard him _really_ laugh. Usually it's a chuckle or a scoff, not often a real laugh. I decide I like it.

"Okay, Finnick, just let me get some clothes on." I turn and walk to the closet, surprised when I hear his steps close behind me.

"Oh, but I find this ensemble so very _enticing_." I blush, realizing I the only thing covering my lower half is the bottom of the extra-large t-shirt. But what catches my attention the most is the fact that his voice is back to the strange rumble.

"You're talking funny again." I call over my shoulder, ruffling through sets of clothes.

I hear the bed squeak as he sits down.

"No I'm not," His tone is defensive and slightly confused, and I can practically envision him scrunching his eyebrows behind my back. "Oh, and wear something you can move in. Training day and all,"

I only nod and grab a preset outfit of a deep-purple athletic top and black leggings. I turn to walk into the bathroom, and as I do Finnick objects.

"Where are you going?"

"To change," I laugh, closing the door between us. "What else would I be doing?"

"Oh Annie. To me," He purrs. "You're just taking my fun away."

When I reemerge, Finnick bites his lip and eyes me up and down in exaggerated appreciated.

"Mmm-mmm-mmm." He mumbles, winking before casting a large grin in my direction.

"Oh, shut-up." I laugh, scaring him by whipping my t-shirt at him before bringing it back to my body. He stumbles onto his back, laughter unrestrained, before swinging himself back up and shaking his head.

It briefly crosses my mind how easy it is to be around each other so early, and how strange that is. But I promised myself no more thoughts of trivial things, so I squash and hide it along with so many others.

We exit the room at the same time, and he closes the door behind us. We must be late to breakfast, because in the minute it takes us to get there Amphitrite, Mags and Stark are all waiting for us, nibbling food off their respective plates.

"It's considered bad manners to arrive so late to a set function," Stark huffs, not bothering to look up from her plate.

"Sorry, Stark." The smile I put on my face is strained, but it's the best I can do for her icy greeting. "You know how it is picking out an outfit in the morning."

Although my clothes selection took less than a minute, I know appealing to her materialistic side can only earn me brownie points. And indeed it does, because she manages to tear her gaze from her plate of fruit to nod sympathetically.

"Oh, so true. I suppose it's forgivable this time." She smiles lightly, and I thank her. Finnick is doing his best not to laugh, and so are the rest of the table's occupants. They all know what I'm doing, but Stark prefers to not see it.

I begin to cross the room for the chair next to Amphitrite, but Finnick beats me to it. With a smile he pulls out my chair, gesturing for me to sit.

My heart starts with surprise, and yet again blood rushes to my cheeks. Chivalry is a weakness of mine.

I can see Mags eyeing him curiously, and Stark is almost outright gawking, so I gather this isn't something he does often. Nonetheless, I appreciate it.

"Thank-you, Finnick." I bite my lip as he slides into the chair across from mine.

"Anytime," He winks, turning to the table to begin filling his empty plate.

I take my time choosing the foods I want to sample, avoiding anything too heavy or foreign. If there's anything swimming has taught me, it's that an overly full stomach is always a hindrance - I can only assume the same principle will apply to training.

When I've emptied my plate and tossed my napkin onto it, a white-gloved hand manages to grab them both before I can blink.

"Oh!" The quick movement of the hand startles me, and I turn around to find the owner. It's a tall boy with light brown hair and bleak grey eyes.

"Well thank-you!" I beam at him. His eyes suddenly grow large, and he looks around the room nervously.

The whole room is suddenly quiet. I shrink in my chair, three sets of eyes studying me intensely.

"Annalaese," Stark hisses from beside me. "They're Avoxes. Traitors. You don't_ talk_ to them!"

I lean away from her, appalled._ "What?" _I look around the room for support, but everyone remains quiet.

My blood boils at her pride and ignorance.

"They're still _people_, Stark!" My tone is much more venomous than I had intended, a dangerous whisper, but once the words are out I can't retract them.

She opens her mouth to respond, her eyes furious, and I'm sure she's about to send me off to some dungeon or prison hidden in the depths of the Capitol.

"She's right, Stark. Now sit there and shut up, we have bigger things to discuss."

The words belong to Finnick, and everyone's eyes are drawn to the bronze-haired man as he snaps at the vain escort.

"Exactly," Mags interjects before Stark can. "Today they begin their training and we need to talk about it."

Stark is effectively silenced by the mentors combined effort, and she only picks at her food for a few more minutes before leaving without a word.

"Amphitrite, you've been trained for years, you told me that already," Mags takes a sip of coffee before continuing. "What are you strengths?"

He clears his throat and places his cutlery down before answering.

"Spears and nets. I can't make the nets, but if I have one, along with a spear, or even just a stick, I can make a pretty efficient trap. That, and it's good for hunting too."

Mags nods, considering this while swallowing a bite of croissant. "Anything else?"

"I've got good upper body strength. I'm strong. Uh, that's it I suppose."

"That's a great place to start," Finnick smiles before turning to me. "And you, Annie?"

His eyes are hopeful as he searches me, but I have nothing to give him. I am not useful. I don't have strengths like Amphitrite does - and the moment that thought hit me, the reality of my looming death began to creep over my mind. It's a good thing I knew I was going to die anyway.

_Like Iphigenia, _I reminded myself_. With grace._

"Uh," I attempt a laugh, unable to meet his eyes any longer. "No such luck."

"I'm sure you have something!" His tone is hopeful, and when I look up his eyes don't hold the glaze they normally do.

I search my mind for any useful attribute of mine.

"Well..." I trail off, unsure.

"Everything counts Annie." He smiles at me once more, reassuringly.

"I can make nets, uh, I know how to use a knife. And I'm pretty fast." Even to me the list sounds feeble.

"Well that's good!" Finnick's face brightens. "Anything else?"

I think for another moment. "I can make myself invisible."

Mags enters the conversation. "What, like camouflage?"

"No. Hiding. I'm good at hiding - I can always find somewhere to cram myself in. It came in handy when we were little playing hide-and-seek... I never imagined it would work here." I let a light laugh escape my lips. It's true - I'd never imagined I would have to use that ability here.

"You'd be surprised what can save your life in the Hunger Games." Finnick replies, eyes still searching mine. "Well, I'd advise you both try and focus on learning a little bit of everything. Make sure to stop at the stations you already know you're good at, keep improving."

"So Annie, that's knives and nets. Amphitrite, spears and weight-lifting." Mags added.

"Exactly. And don't let the full extent of your ability show. You never want the opponent to know too much. When it comes to making alliances, I wouldn't expect anything to happen today - we can talk about that when the time comes around." Finnick finished, ending the perfect synchronicity Mags and him spoke with.

Amphitrite and I nodded in understanding, and soon we were all excusing ourselves from the table and walking towards the training center.

Mentors and tributes walked side by side in the narrow hallway, and occasionally when Finnick's shoulder brushed mine I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through my entire body. _What is he wearing that's causing that?_ I kept wondering.

We wandered through the twisting corridors in silence, my stomach swarming with butterflies. My palms began to sweat, and I wiped them on my tights nonchalantly, hoping not to draw attention to myself.

We reached a large archway, and within I could see several sets of kids already inside.

Finnick pulled me off to the side, as Mags did to Amphitrite.

He bent down to my eye level, resting his hands on his knees.

"Don't worry if things don't go to well today," His eyes were serious, as was his tone, nothing like the purr he was so famous for. "You've got another two weeks in there to perfect those things. Don't panic, whatever you do. Okay?" His eyes probed mine, comforting in their beauty.

"Okay." I responded, smiling lightly. "But I'm Iphigenia, not Penthesilea." **(A/N: Penthesilea is another woman in the Trojan War myth, but she's queen of a race of women Amazon warriors.)**

I watched the confusion in his eyes grow as I walked through the door frame with Amphitrite.

"Annie!" He called after me. "What do you mean?" I could hear the urgency in his tone, but I ignored it and simply turned to Amphitrite with a smile.

"I'm here for you if you need me," His voice was quiet, but I knew he meant what he said. "Why don't we go to the stations together?"

I nodded thankfully. He didn't have to do this - in fact, I would slow him down. I knew that, even he knew that. But I couldn't bring myself to dismiss the only comfort I would have in this strange world of combat.

"Tributes, gather round!" A strong female voice carried throughout the room.

I pulled the elastic from my wrist and tied my hair into a high ponytail, pulling until my scalp hurt.

Amphitrite and I walked slowly to the center of the room, eyeing the other kids as we did. We all centered around the tall, warrior-esque woman standing in the middle of a large blue mat.

She had chestnut hair tied up in a ponytail, with relatively pretty features and an athletic body covered in black-and-silver athletic wear. Her eyes were kind, and despite her intimidating body language I decided I liked her.

"My name's Fathom," She explained, smiling at us. "And my twin sister Faith is over there." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder to a woman in identical clothing stretching against the Northern wall.

"We'll be running your training session, so if you have any major questions you can come to either of us. We'll be moving around as you guys practice, but just act as if we aren't here. Other than that, every station has a trained expert with exceeding skills in that area, so trust them for answers to anything weapon-specific. Questions?"

We all remained silent, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Alright then, happy training everyone. May the odds _ever_ be in your favor." Even though she spoke the same words as all the escorts and Capitol officials, she said it with such a mocking smile that it elicited more than a few laughs from the tributes, including me.

Everyone dispersed within seconds, fanning out either singularly or in pairs. I desperately tried not to resist physically clinging to Amphitrite, but my hands itched to grab him nonetheless.

"Wanna try spears first?" He asked, eyeing the empty station with the only bit of excitement I'd seen in him have all trip.

_Why not? _I thought. _So many killing machines, so little time._

* * *

><p>Six stations, a pulled muscle and five bruises later, the training session came to an official close.<p>

It had gone relatively well, I had learned I hadn't lost my proficiency with making nets or aiming knives.

I had mistaken Faith for Fathom at one point, and when I blushed and stuttered out an apology she only laughed and gave my shoulder a squeeze, telling me how she had liked my outfit last night. At least the tight contraption had been good for something. Finnick had been right about no one forming alliances - everyone had more or less remained in their District pairs, and I knew no more about any of them now then at the beginning of the day.

When the mass of sweating, aching tributes began to pile out the door, Faith stood in the middle of the room and made an announcement that made everyone turn around.

"For all those interested in the upcoming dance Caesar announced yesterday, I am instructed to relay details to you here and now."

Nearly all the tributes brought themselves back to the blue center mat, plopping down tiredly, myself and Amphitrite included. Only a few tributes continued wearily out the door, and I momentarily envied them.

"Good choice," Faith turned to us, eyes sparkling slightly. "Alright. President Snow has issued that we create a dance representing the fall of North America and rise of Panem. Each of you will receive a choreographed part to learn based on your appearance and abilities. It _will_ be hard, and you have the option to leave now if you so choose. However, once you are assigned your part - which Fathom or I will give you within the next two days - it is your responsibility to know the routine by heart, no exceptions."

We all nodded in understanding.

"The first choreography session will be tomorrow - and before you officially sign on you must talk to your mentors and stylists to get their permission. Stylists will be responsible for making your outfit, although they will receive guidelines. And every District that participates will be required to have at least one more male participate, whether that be mentor or stylist, that's up to you."

She scanned the room once more, clearing her throat as she pulled a slip of paper from her pocket.

"The interpretation will be loose, mind you - the dance has to be somewhat entertaining." She winked. "For the males, there are two kinds of parts available - and those will be explained tomorrow."

"Unfortunately boys, you're playing second fiddle to the ladies here. But I'm sure you're already aware of that lot in life," Everyone laughed at her joke, and Faith seemed pleased with herself for making us do so. "Girls, you have more significant roles. Or, at least, you have names."

"Let's see, only one girl left..." She checked over the piece of paper, brows furrowed as she scribbled something out. "Okay, that means there are 11 spots for tributes... okay, girls, here are the roles available: Honesty, Valor, Purity, Constancy, Liberty, Peace, Trust, Justice, Fidelity, Freedom, and Beauty."

She paused for a moment, allowing these "roles" to sink in. How, exactly were these roles? Was one of us supposed to dance with honesty while the other danced with purity? It didn't make any sense. Only the Capitol would come up with something so ridiculous.

"I'd like to be Beauty," I high-pitched voice called out from the other side of the circle. Heads swiveled to find the speaker, a blonde-haired girl that must have come from District 1.

"I'm sorry, Vonlea, but I can't guarantee anyone certain spots. You may request certain roles but the overall the decision will be for the President to make."

No one could argue once Snow was mentioned, so when she dismissed us we piled out without another word.

"Snow is making the decision for the roles? That seems a little bit over-the-top, doesn't it?" I turned to Amphitrite, my voice low in his ear. You never know who would report me for saying something like that.

"Maybe," He eyed the passing tributes. "But it means he gets to take a closer look at us."

I gulped, realizing he was right.

I could only hope I would pass inspection.

* * *

><p><em><span>ANNIE'S TRAINING OUTFIT: <span>h t t p : / / f o t o s . f o t o f l e x e r . c o m / 9 5 5 1 b 7 b e 8 0 b 0 9 0 c d a 4 9 5 a a 1 b 5 b b 3 a 6 2 7 . j p g_

_Annnddd, end of chapter! Did you like it? I KNOW it was long (actually, the longest chapter yet!)... but that's better than a short chapter, right? And I'm trying to include more Finnick-Annie interaction, as I was asked for! Now that time is moving along I can start to make things heat up between them:D_

_**OKAY, SO, THE BIG QUESTION** - How much do you want me to delve into the next two weeks of training? I mean, do you want me to gloss over the days and sum them up with a paragraph or so, or do you want me to do chapters for every couple days (I wont do a chapter per day.. I don't think.. that'd get too exhausting!) ? I have lots of stuff I want to include in the next two weeks of Finnick and Annie's relationship, and it's up to you how much detail you want me to give about them. If you'd rather I** gloss over the training/Games** I can do so (although if I come up with something I want to do I might overrule and write what I want) or if you can wait for the MAJOR romance (they can't fall in love overnight!) I can **show the whole budding relationship. **_

**_UP TO YOU! TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT!_**


	11. Intoxicated With Madness

I'm so sorry I haven't posted in so long! Christmas stuff with the family took over my days quite thoroughly... I hope you all had a great Christmas! Or Hanukkah or Kwanzaa or whatever you celebrate:). I own nothing, as always - Finnick, Annie, and the whole gang belong to lovely Ms Collins! Anywho, I really like this chapter, so I hope you do! Thanks so much to the reviewer _Rayne Marie_ for saying it was the best fanfic you'd ever read, you have no idea how happy that made me feel! And to _urstory_, you're so constant and supportive it just makes my day!

_You know Miss Sunshine, she starts to paint a perfect picture of this river parade  
>And I know that I love the rain the most when it stops<br>Yeah, when it stops_

_Well, the dark waves, they start singing together_  
><em>I can't believe this change in the weather<em>  
><em>I start to hum a child's rhyme<em>  
><em>And all these boats, they start rocking in time<em>  
><em>And I love the rain the most when it stops<em>  
><em>Yes, <span>we<span> love the rain the most when it stops_  
><em>Yeah when it stops<em>

I Love The Rain The Most; Joe Purdy.

**For this chapter, LISTEN TO: Breathe Me by Sia on repeat. (As a bonus, play 'RainyMood' [found on YouTube] at the same time!)**

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><p><strong>FINNICK'S POV<strong>

_"I'm Iphigenia, not Penthesilea." _

The words rung through my head over and over. What could she have meant? Who were they? Friends from back home?

Whoever they were, I didn't like them. The way Annie had looked at me before walking off - the sheer wistful melancholia those green eyes had contained in a split second was inconceivable and _terrifying_. Her eyes were constantly terrifying.

I had asked Mags if she recognized the names; but they were as foreign to her as they were to me.

"No clue," She had shrugged. "But they sound Greek, although I could be totally wrong. Why? You planning on naming children sometime soon?"

I had just laughed at her response, trying to keep a smile on my face while something ate away at my insides. Something didn't feel right.

I shook my head, hoping to knock the thoughts out of my brain. I needed to find something that would take my mind off of this whole thing. And there was only one place in this contrived city that could do that.

I returned to my room, mind swimming. I quickly slipped into shorts and a t-shirt, bypassing the mirror on my way out the door after filling up a water bottle and a bag with a spare change of clothes.

The 24/7 gym was the one good part about being in the Capitol. The extensive training room was filled with every kind of machine imaginable, and I had used them all. Sweat and pain was a good distraction for a disturbed mind. Sometimes the endorphin's even battled hard enough with my thoughts that I was actually happy afterwords. Another plus to this specific gym - it was mentors only. That meant, at any given time, there could be only 24 people in here. The less people there to bother me, the better.

If I had been back in D4, I would have gone swimming or even just walked along the beach, losing my thoughts to the sound of waves lapping at sand. But here in the Capitol, this was the best I could get.

When the automated doors swung open, I was hit with cold air-conditioned air and silence. Exactly the way I wanted it.

For the next few hours I threw myself into my workout; sweating, aching and pushing myself on levels I had never known before. I ran farther. I lifted more. I worked _harder._

And yet with every step on the treadmill, every lift of leg on the hamstring curl, every propulsion of sinewy muscle on the weights, my mind echoed one thought -

_Annie, Annie, Annie._

On every machine I attempted to lose myself. The speed was so high on the treadmill at times I thought I would fall off, but instead I pushed my legs to move faster than I had previously thought possible to keep up with the racing rubber. But she was still there. The sound of her name being called at the Reaping, her blank expression on the train, her glimmering body in that ridiculous fish outfit that she'd somehow managed to make look stunning.

It was still all _Annie, Annie, Annie. _My body was as heated as my thoughts, and I tore the damp shirt over my head, hoping to find some kind of relief. There was no gratification.

I pressed the incline on the machine over and over, feeling the burn in my muscles increase until it was almost unbearable. But she was still there. Even the pain couldn't turn her image away.

_GET OUT! _The demon snarled at her, tearing at her image with sharp teeth and claws, making the porcelain skin run red.

_No!_ I screamed at it, shaking as he lunged at her. I felt my feet fly out from under me, felt my body hit the carpet with force, my skin turning red. I felt the aching in my head as it hit the unforgiving ground.

Everything in my brain turned to fuzz - the demon, Annie, everything - and I got up from the ground, ignoring the small wounds and protesting body as my blood boiled.

My mind was supposed to be my place of sanctuary. The one place I could do and feel whatever I wanted, _alone, _without the presence of Snow or petty women or the demon. The gym was supposed to be my place, where I could forget about everything but burning muscle and sweat.

So why was _she_ here, summoning the demon and preventing me from concentrating? Who was she to invade me like that?

"God _damn it!_" I roared, my fist connecting with the wall of the large room. My vision began to blur, a scarlet the exact colour of blood filling in the hazy edges. I couldn't tell if my fist had gone through the wall, I didn't bother to look.

I stormed through the glass doors, legs moving in large, quick strides down the empty corridors. When I reached my room I opened and slammed the door without concern for who heard or saw.

I moved immediately to my computer, heart still beating ferociously in my chest, sweat only beginning to dry on my bare back. The blue screen immediately materialized, and before I knew what I was doing, a single name was being typed into the search engine.

_Penthesilea_

I clicked the first link, waiting. Once the site was up, I began to read and scrutinize every sentence on the page.

_Penthesilia, an Amazonian Queen of a group of elite women warriors, made famous for her appearance in the Greek fable of the Trojan War -_

I continued down the page, scrolling until a word caught my eye.

_**Death** - She died in the midst of battle, killed by the Greek warrior Achilles. He was -_

Frustrated, I returned to the first screen without finishing the sentence and typed in the other name, hoping for better results. It took mere seconds for the screen to load, and once again I clicked the first link and

"Iphigenia," I muttered aloud. "Princess in Greek myth... Tricked into thinking she was marrying the warrior Achilles... it was a ploy... her father needed her blood to be spilled in order to continue on his war..."

My heart skipped a beat when I read the sentence, and everything around me temporarily slowed.

"And when she came to know of the plan she - she -" My eyes grew wide. The words before me turned my rapidly beating heart cold and still as stone. "She willingly sacrificed herself."

I leaned back in my chair, mouth parted, strangled breaths echoing in the quiet room. I could barely think.

Closing my eyes, I began to take deep breaths, allowing my mind to begin working again.

I heard a knock at my door.

"Finnick?" It was Mags.

I ignored her.

She knocked again. "Finnick! I know you're in there!"

I didn't move from my position, didn't make a sound.

"Amphitrite and Annie are back from training, I thought I'd let you know," She huffed. I absorbed the words but continued to remain in my inner world.

_She said she wasn't Penthesilea - she said she isn't a warrior. Okay. So she said she was Iphigenia -_

My eyes sprung open, and I jumped from the chair, my heart back to its previous rapid pace. I could feel my fists clench involuntarily, my jaw tighten and blood grow hot in my veins.

I reached the door in three strides, tearing it open with such force Mags jumped back in surprise.

"Jeez, you scared me! What are you doing shirtle - "

"Where is she?" I demanded, my hands gripping her wrinkled elbows tightly.

"Who? Who?" She chanted, her eyes containing fright at my wild countenance.

_"Annie!" _I yell, pulling myself back from shaking the old woman. "Where is she?"

"She was with Leif in the prep room, last time I saw her! What's gotten into you?" She answers, shaking her head in confusion.

I let go of her without another word, my bare feet flying over the carpet, wheeling sharply around corners and down the empty halls.

I was no longer mad at her for invading my private time, oh no. But putting the pieces of her enigmatic statement together had sent me into a whole new fit of blinding rage, and I would find her if it was the last thing I did.

_She's Iphigenia. She's planning on** sacrificing herself.**_

* * *

><p><strong>ANNIE'S POV<strong>

"Thanks again Leif, this means so much that you're willing to do this." My hands wrap around the lithe body of the stylist as he laughs.

"Oh, it's really no problem. When you're designing for someone so beautiful it's a joy to have more creations to make." He takes time to chuckle at my blush before continuing. "But anything that helps you out you know I'm more than willing to do." The smile that stretches his mocha-coloured face is a genuine one, and once more I silently remind myself how lucky I am to have such a great support system in this godforsaken time leading up to my death.

He drapes a hand across my shoulder and leads me towards the waiting Amphitrite and the silver-skinned raven-haired woman that must be his stylist, who are waiting politely off to the side.

"The guidelines should be fun to work with, eh Witch?" Leif winks at the strange woman as we approach.

"Fun to work_ around_," She retorts, pushing herself off the wall she was previously leaning against and joining us, and I see a coy flutter of her eyelashes over black feline eyes. Leif's arm removes itself from my shoulders as he begins to walk by her side, and the glances exchanged between them makes my bite my lip.

Amphitrite is soon beside me, serious as ever, the small twinkle in his eye the only hint of playfulness in his hard exterior.

"I think they like each other," I whisper, leaning into his ear.

He looks at me quizzically before shaking his head. "How can you tell? You've only seen them together for a few seconds."

I eye them once more before confirming my thoughts. "I just do." I smile, "Maybe it's a girl thing." I nudge him and raise an eyebrow, laughing lightly.

"No, I think it's a _you_ thing." He responds, sounding exasperated all while smiling. "You're good with figuring people out, Annie. It's easy to see that."

I nearly stop in my tracks, eyeing him with strangely confused eyes. I suppose maybe I have good interactions with people. I turn to him to respond, but before I do there's a voice that makes me still as stone.

_"Annie!" _

For a second I feel as though I've imagined it, the pure ferocity and emotion entwined with the howl of my name is like nothing I've ever heard before. But everyone around me has turned to face the source of the noise, so it must be real.

_"Annie!"_ Whatever creature is baying my name is closer, and I step forward, my curiosity overruling my fright. Metal clangs in the prep room, and while the remainder of the group stays still, I continue to walk forward slowly.

Suddenly the double doors burst open and before me is the last sight I had expected to see.

It's Finnick. But not just Finnick - this is a furious, crazed, Finnick. His feet are bare and his chest is completely exposed, and I can see a faint sheen of dried sweat coating his muscular body. Even in his current state, my heart skips a beat at the beauty. He's like a tiger, large and dangerous but oh so beautiful.

He frantically searches the room before his green eyes lock on me with such ferocity I take a step back, suddenly frightened.

Without a word he stalks towards me, not running but moving at the same speed nonetheless. Before I can defend myself his hands are gripping my upper arms so tightly I can feel them bruising under his strength, and his face is centimeters away from mine.

_"What the hell are you thinking?" _He screams at me, his eyes blazing into mine and straight through me. I squirm in his hold, but to no avail - it's like anvils weigh me to him.

His eyes are so beautiful and terrifying at once that I can't look away, as scared as I am.

"What are you talking about, Finnick? Let me go!" I wriggle once again, this time kicking my feet out from under me. I expect to fall, but he keeps me upright, and suddenly I'm hovering above the ground. His face remains unchanged, his muscles unaffected by carrying my weight before he puts me down again.

My breath escapes me, and I can feel him push off Amphitrite as he attempts to free me.

"You're not here to sacrifice yourself, Annie!" He returns his gaze to me, shaking me so that I swear I can feel my brain rattle in my skull. "You're not her!"

Everything suddenly clicks into place. He found out who Iphigenia is.

"Yes I am!" I yell back at him. "We both know it, now let me go!" I struggle with all my might, and I manage to maneuver my arms out of his grip and begin to turn away when he grabs my wrists and pulls me back.

"No!" Is his only answer, but now his face is less frightening and I can see his tone for what it is. Not animalistic or hateful, but scared and concerned to the point of rage.

"Annie, I'm not going to let you do this!" He has backed me against a wall, his body shielding me from those attempting to pry me away from him.

"Why?" Is my only response, full of bitterness as the tears I've been struggling to contain begin to slide down my cheek. "Why should you care?" He shouldn't. I'm just one more face lost to 70 years of useless violence and corrupted government.

When he looks at me, breathing hard, bare chest just brushing lightly against mine, I forget there are others in the room. All that is in my mind is Finnick and this madness and how bad I want to break down and slide down the wall in tears. But I won't.

_"Because you're my -"_ His voice is less irate but still contains the same passion when he answer. I'm his... _what?_ "You're my tribute and I'm responsible for you. I won't have you running in there with the intention to kill yourself."

I have no words to respond to him with. Nothing left to give. So instead I stare at him, tears trickling slowly down my cheeks, hoping to convey everything I can't say with words in my eyes.

He drops my wrists and takes a step back, his breath loud and ragged. Running a hand through his hair, he looks away, locking his jaw and closing his eyes. When he returns his orbs, I can see he's equal parts scared and ashamed.

He looks down briefly before staring back at me. My chest heaves, and every inch of my limbs is alive with something. Adrenaline?

"Finnick!" A female voice calls from behind us, full of disdain, shock and rue. It's Stark, who stands idly by a impassive Mags, seemingly unaffected by his tirade.

The green eyes never leave mine as she calls to him, and his mouth drops open to whisper _I'm sorry _before he stalks out of the room as quickly as he entered it.

When he leaves I slide to the floor, all my energy gone and capacity for words used up. No tears fall, but I bury my face in my hands nonetheless. My body is stiff and cold but it is the only shelter I have.

Everyone is surrounding me, but all their coaxing can't make me look up. Several sets of hands stroke me, and I shiver away from their touch. They'll leave eventually - everyone does. It's easier to break myself when I'm alone. I feel all the hands leave my body, and I sigh in relief before I feel a pair of arms wrapping around me, beginning to lift me up, and I fight them vehemently before looking up and realizing they belong to Amphitrite. He stares stonily ahead and ignores all protests as his saves me from the mania.

I turn my eyes to his soft shirt and let him take me.

_Wherever it is we're going, it's better than here._

* * *

><p>Ahhh! This is definitely my favourite chapter yet! What did you guys think? And don't worry, there's no plan for romance between Amphitrite and Annie.. at least not right now. Although that would be a good twist:D But I want the relationship between them to be really strong, hence moments like the one that just happened. So, is that a better increase in Finnick-Annie interaction?;)<p>

So based on the reviews I got, I will definitely be **spending some time on what's happening during the training and the Games**. I'm writing it more like a book than a focused fanfic in that sense. Hopefully I bore no one! I've got some great ideas for the stuff coming next, so just wait for it and I don't think you'll be too disappointed:)

I'm also going to start occasionally putting** LISTEN TO suggestions for certain chapters**, like this one. It really helps with translating the mood, and I listened to Breathe Me over 50 times STRAIGHT while writing this chapter!

Also, I think I have an idea for what I want the Arena to be, but if you want, **send me some ideas for both the actual arena and any muttations** you think I should use. I also **might open up a SYOT** in a chapter or two, so keep an eye open for that;)

Hope everyone is having a great holiday! Cheers, and thanks for reading!


	12. In Love With Her Sadness

**THIS CHAPTER UPDATED AS OF 12:43 PM 07/01/2012 Sorry guys, I realized I didn't want the end to be that emotional yet, so I altered it slightly. If you read this chapter before the aforementioned date/time, you get a new ending to read!**

... I know how long its been. I'm sorry... I've been sick.. and.. yeah... so PLEASE DONT HATE ME! But this chapter is really long (new record for longest chapter)! And I'll try and update this weekend for you guys to make up for this:)

_I dare you to move_  
><em>I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor<em>  
><em>I dare you to move<em>  
><em>I dare you to move<em>  
><em>Like today never happened<em>  
><em>Today never happened before<em>

_Welcome to the fallout_  
><em>Welcome to resistance<em>  
><em>The tension is here<em>  
><em>Tension is here<em>  
><em>Between who you are and who you could be<em>  
><em>Between how it is and how it should be<em>

Dare You To Move; Switchfoot.

**LISTEN TO: Today they've been put in specific places in the chapter so you can stop-and-start them at the right time:)**

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><p><strong>ANNIE'S POV<strong>

Silence.

It's the one thing I've longed to hear for days now, and finally I'm left alone with only my own mind to disturb me. I'm bundled in layers upon layers of luxurious fur blankets, although I can't remember putting them over me or even getting into bed. Nonetheless here I am and there they are, the warmth of their protection almost becoming unbearable in their entirety. I can't remember Amphitrite past when he picked me up, and even when I strain to recall anything it returns fuzzy and shiny. Indecipherable.

I strain my head to look above me at the monotonous white ceiling. It hurts my neck, but I feel as if my body is immovable, so it's my only option. Everything hurts; it's not quite a sharp pain but a constant ache in every minute bone in my body. It's the worst kind of pain imaginable - I could handle intense, spastic pain. At least that leaves moments of rest. This kind of hurt leaves you drained and crying from frustration because all you want is for it to just _stop_ and _go away_. But no matter how many times I beg, it stays to keep me company. What a lovely friend I have.

When the pain eventually subsides and becomes manageable, only lingering in my creaking joints, I lift my body out of the covers and swing my legs free. The cold air feels good against my moist legs, and I allow myself to gently stretch, curling my toes.

Slowly, daintily, I put one foot down. It's like testing the waters of the ocean; I have to go slowly so as to not shock myself. If only the cold marble _was_ the sea - then perhaps I'd be feeling differently. I'd be happy. If seaweed was the only thing entangling me, and not the memory of the arms of a bare-chested green-eyed philanderer, maybe this would all be different.

But it's not, and I struggle to accept my current reality._ I suppose standing would be a good start_.

So with a dark smile I begin to shift my body off the bed and onto the floor.

When my left foot has proven it can support enough weight to keep me upright, my right foot follows and soon I'm standing, posture reminiscent of a newborn foal. Knees buckle for a second or two, my legs tremble. But within seconds I'm standing straight, legs firm on the ground. Once more I've gotten up after my world turned and dumped me on my back.

How many more times would I have to do this?

I trudge silently to the nearest mirror, grimacing slightly when my bruises protest - whether they're bruises from strong hands or sword training, I don't know. And I don't think I _want_ to know. The training session seems so far away now, but it must have only been an hour or two ago, judging by the twilight night outside my window and the rumbling in my stomach.

When I arrive at the shining reflective surface, I almost expect my image to startle me. To show some physical transformation which, internally, feels so obvious. But instead, it's the same old Annie I've always seen. The boring, not-quite-good-enough Annie.

The green eyes are more dazed and confused than normal, but that could just be me - my eyes aren't focusing right anyway, so my vision is distorted. After several deep breaths it begins to return, and I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, staring solemnly at my now-clear reflection.

In two weeks time, this face would be broadcasted across the whole of Panem. What would they see? The scared, weak girl I know I am? Probably.

But... what would District 4 see? The people from back home... what would they see when they looked at my face?

They all knew me, of that I could be sure. I was just silly little Annie Cresta, the girl with a slightly crazy mother and incapacitated father. The girl who never stopped playing mermaid, the girl who made friends with the toothless fisherman at the docks when she went to sell her catches of the day. The girl who blushed and smiled at everything then cried at anything when no one was looking. The girl who walked the beach at sunset every night, the girl who swam in the middle of the night despite the temperatures of the air or ocean. Was that who they saw?

Probably not. They just saw a girl with a blank stare and small frame. The kind of tribute that died in the first few seconds of the bloodbath. Between me and Amphitrite, he would clearly be the District favourite - Besides my parents, Carp and Bombay I couldn't imagine who would want me to come home.

Tears threatened to spill over my cheeks, so I turned away from my reflection without another thought, heading immediately into the bathroom, avoiding the oversized mirror that stood directly in front of me.

I quickly pulled off my clothes and dashed into the shower, hoping to find refuge for my shivering, unprotected body. When my feet touched the pre-warmed tiles I sighed in a fleeting moment of happiness, wiggling my toes against their heat.

When I turned to the head of the shower, I was amazed by the complexity I found myself facing. There were dozens of buttons, each with a different word engraved into the shiny silver, and an electronic screen humming softly above them all.

After wrestling with the controls for a good few minutes, pressing several completely random buttons, I was hit with a geyser of warm multiple-scented water. The liquid trailed over my body like a blanket, warming me up immediately. I couldn't quite place all the smells, but there were strong notes of orange and an exaggerated rain-in-the-summer scent. I definitely liked it. So when the screen asked me if I wanted to save the combination, I pressed yes and continued to search the intricate control panel.

As the mechanical shower shampooed and conditioned my long hair, I found myself free to think. Guarding against any more thoughts of home, the day's dramatic events began to replay through my mind.

As soon as I pictured Finnick I knew it was a mistake. Tears immediately welled in my eyes, and I began to feel lightheaded. Flashes of his face, my words to him about my fate, and my struggle against his hold melded together in my mind to form a slideshow of pain. I accepted that I was going to die - but the thought was still utterly _terrifying_. I wanted to grow up, I wanted to fall in love. I wanted everything that a normal, mundane life would have given me but I would never, ever, be able to have it anymore.

Suddenly the water was terrifying - it was everywhere, choking me, pinching me, making me feel claustrophobic. I begged to escape, but the mixture of tears and water in my eyes stung so harshly I had to keep them closed, and my mind was spinning so intensely I couldn't think straight.

I stumbled on the wet ground, banging the side of my head into the tile. I cried out, but no one was there to help me. I forced my eyes open in an attempt to see, and shapes were blurry, but my vision was restoring. I began to choke on a sob, but I stifled the noise. It would do me no good to cry now. I felt blindly around the glass entrance for a towel, a handle, anything. When I found the handle I pushed so hard I was sure I would break the door - luckily some force stopped it before it shattered into pieces.

I found the shirt I had slept in overnight and brought it to my eyes, wiping away every drop of moisture. After a few minutes of deep breathing I coaxed myself back in the shower, allowing the alternative blasts of liquid and heat to finish up the job it started. When I exited, my hair was almost completely dry, falling in the waves it was used to. At least some things wouldn't change while I was here.

I wrapped a towel around my body, the shirt I had previously worn soaked from my first misadventure with the shower. The spot behind my right eye ached from the bash against the hard towel, and I rubbed in briefly in hopes it would lessen the pain.

As I re-entered the bedroom part of my quarters, fingers still massaging the bruise, a knock on my door startled me, and I nearly tripped over my own feet clumsily.

_No amount of training is going to fix that, _I thought bitterly.

When I ignored the knock and continued to my closet, the visitor knocked again softly, still hesitant.

"Annie?"

I froze. It was Finnick. Every bone in my body became still, and my mind wouldn't compute no matter how hard I pressed it to think. I wrapped the towel closer around my body, careful to move my feet silently as I shifted my weight, as if noise would scare away my visitor.

"Annie, it's Finnick." He paused, obviously hoping for some response from me. His voice was strained, hoarse and damaged. He sounded... hurt. Not physically hurt, but emotionally and mentally in pain.

My heart melted. I knew he hadn't meant to scare me with his intensity - it was just the shock of hearing his tribute was more or less thinking of herself as a sacrifice. But could I excuse him so easily?

"I understand if you don't want to talk to me, I really do." He paused again, evidently unsure of his words. "I just - I'm so, so sorry. I don't expect you to want to see me, but -"

Tiptoeing across the marble floor I twisted the lock and pulled the door open, peaking my head out the door to see Finnick facing the opposite wall, head in his hands. Shifting my body carefully so my towel-covered body wasn't exposed, I eyed him with a small smile as he turned in shock.

"What female wouldn't want to see you, Finnick?" I let the corners of my lips tug upwards, hoping to convey my acceptance of his presence with my lame, mocking joke. His mouth began to mirror my own before he stopped himself and turned away from me once more.

"No, Annie, what I did was wrong! So wrong! And I'm so sorry for hurting you, I really didn't mean to, I just -" In my current mood, the intensity of his speech almost seemed absurd and an incredulous laugh slipped through my lips.

"It's _okay,_" I whispered with a chuckle, my eyes narrowing slightly as I attempted to decipher the strange man. "I forgive you. You were justifiably upset. Maybe next time just remember to put on a shirt before confronting me, you were quite frightening half-naked like a barbarian." I bit my lip, wondering why I was trying to comfort him into smiling when it was he who should've been begging for my forgiveness.

He stared at me, eyes holding confusion, before he broke out into a small smile. "Well, I'm sure it wasn't all bad." He winked, causing me to blush and shift behind the door. He smiled a few seconds longer before returning to his previous solemn state. "Did I hurt you? If I did, tell me and I'll -"

"No, Finnick, I'm fine!" I wasn't quite sure if it was a lie, I was bruised and battered, but I wasn't sure if that was from training or his vice-like grip. "I'm fine." I repeated, smiling as he searched my eyes to detect a lie.

He took a step forward, seemingly calm now that he knew I was okay. The closer he came, the faster my heart began to beat, and I clutched at my towel desperately. If it slipped, I would be naked in front of him...

"So, we missed dinner." He leaned against the doorframe, smiling softly.

"What?" My eyes popped open. "Seriously? What time is it? I thought we ate at seven -"

"We do. It's almost 10:30, Annie. How long did you think you'd been in there?" He eyed my quizzically.

"Um," I stuttered, searching for a plausible response. "I fell asleep. I don't know, I thought it was like six, six-thirty maybe." I looked back into my room and through the window. "But it's not dark enough to be 10:30," I protested.

"Another stupid Capitol quirk. As soon as the sun wears out, their lights turn on. I don't understand it either." He shook his head, green orbs filling with something like disgust as he shook his head. "But I was thinking -" He looked back up before cutting himself off.

"What?" I asked. He continued to stare at eyes, my face, and I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear reflexively. "Finnick, what are you-"

"Annie, what's that?" His voice was short and clipped, hand rising to gesture at the general area of my face.

"What's what? Do I have something on my face?" My fingers scanned my cheek, but they felt nothing unusual.

"That bruise," He responded, reaching his hand out to grasp my face. "Let me see it." His voice was steely and cold - he thought _he_ was the cause of the bruise. Maybe in some ways he was... It was the thought of him that made me freak out in the shower. But it had been my own clumsiness that bashed me into the tile.

"No, stop." I jerked away from him, behind the door.

"Annie, just let me see it! Did I do that to you?"

"No! No no no, you've got it all wrong, I got that just a second ago -" Before I could finish my explanation he had burst through the door, and despite my small squeal and desperate clutch at the towel seperating me from nakedness, he didn't seem to notice my lack of clothing.

"It looks like it hurts, now just hold still!" He reached up for my face again, but I dodged it and attempted to walk past him.

_"Finnick!" _

_"Annie!_"

We stared at each other for a minute, lost in a stalemate. He opens his mouth, but before he can protest I beat him to the punch with an explanation.

"I hit my head in the shower. I swear, Finnick, it wasn't you." My neck is beginning to ache with the degree of the tilt I have to put my head at to look him in the eyes, but there's no way I'm backing down now.

His eyebrow hitches up and he stares at me for another couple seconds, shaking his head.

"If it _had_ been you," I continue, remaining cautious of my wording. "I'd just say it. But it wasn't, I promise! I just bruise like a peach." I attempt a laugh, but despite his lack of recognition I'm still burning up that I'm standing in front of Finnick in my towel.

He remains silent, apparently deciding whether to believe me or not. When his head hangs, I can tell he's fallen into the submission of the truth.

"I'm sorry, Annalaese. I just... It's been a long day. I believe you. You're not exactly the lying kind," He chuckles, bringing his fallen face back to mine with a suave smile.

I laugh and stare at my feet. "I would give you a hug, but ah..." I trail off, cheeks burning red hot as I tug at my towel.

"Ms. Cresta, please don't remind me that the only thing separating me from your lovely little form is a small white towel. I'm having enough trouble breathing already," When I laugh he brings his mouth to my ear and I can feel hot breath on my neck, sending shivers down my spine. My neck is suddenly flashing hot and cold and tingling so intensely I begin to feel a loss of blood in my head.

"You think I'm funny, Cresta? Because I can think of a few wonderful activities that don't even require me to keep my breath. Can't you?"

The current passing between us is something so foreign and elating I can't seem to put a finger on it. His closeness has sent me into spirals, and it's all I can do to keep my breath steady.

While I lack the experience Finnick has, I'm no stranger to boys and I know once I back up and take a few deep breaths his hold on me will disintegrate. Once I follow my mind's advice I find him cocking his head, staring at me with the same smirk that sends thousands of girls to their knees. He may have dropped most of his Capitol accent and behaviour around me, but he still clung to certain others. I still don't like it. He's charming as heck, but I don't need any of this playboy act.

"Well yes I can, Odair. And it's been too long since I've enjoyed it, I miss it_ so_ very much."

He smiles and begins to pace towards me, slow and sure of himself. He thinks he has me hook, line and sinker. His ego makes me bite my lip to refrain from a giggle.

"And whatever could this activity be?" He whispers, hands creaking closer to my waist.

I begin to lift myself teasingly slow on my toes, bringing my mouth to his ear. Once I arrive, I steady myself against his shoulders and whisper one word into his waiting ear:

_"Swimming."_

I laugh uproariously as I back away from him, tapping his cheek twice in consolation. He's gaping is so open, raw and completely confused that I send myself in another round of giggles before grabbing one of Leif's preset day outfits out of the closet and running to the bathroom to change. Even while pulling on the strapless black lace bodice and short pink A-line skirt my heart remains at the furious pace it was in while whispering in Finnick's ear, and my own laughter is buzzing in my ears.

My adrenaline on high, I quickly part my hair in equal sections and let it fall over my shoulders, the way my mom always told me looked so pretty. I tear open the door to find Finnick still looking dazed, so when my laugh rings throughout the room he has almost no time to respond when I grab his hand and begin to pull him out the door.

"C'mon," I insist, not looking back as I practically fly over the carpet. "I'm starving, which means you are too. The kitchens got to have something we can eat."

My hold is only on his wrist, but nonetheless I can feel its heat and it brings an even stronger blush to my cheeks. It almost feels... _good._

* * *

><p><strong>FINNICK'S POV <strong>

**LISTEN TO: LIFE AFTER YOU BY DAUGHTRY**

The kitchen is deserted by the time Annie and I have found our way into the complex silver-and-black room, and immediately upon entry she drops my wrist and begins a mad search for food. I massage the wrist, which tingles intensely. Suddenly it seems very cold without her touch. Shrugging, I rub it lightly as I lean against the counter as I watch the petite girl hunt desperately through drawers and cupboards for nourishment.

Her face, eyebrows drawn in concentration, lips parted slightly, elicits a small chuckle from my own, but I stifle it before she can find the source of the noise. Studying the strange girl requires her unwitting participation in not recognizing my scanning eyes.

I had been so close to her. _Thisclose_. And then she'd turned on her toes, laughter both mocking and consoling me at once. Just recalling the moment made me chuckle and shake my head. I should have known better. Annie wouldn't be caught easy, I should have recognized that.

_But I'm not trying to catch her! _I reminded myself. _This is just another girl and another game. One to make distract her from the more important Game coming up._

"Y'know, I remember you being pretty efficient in hunting in your Games, now did you lose that skill or are you going to help me out?" She asked, mouth in a wide grin, head tilted slightly as she admonished me. Normally this comment could be considered flirtation, but coming from Annie's innocent eyes and sweet grin, it seems anything but.

"This isn't exactly a stream, sweetheart." I respond, shaking my head and pushing myself off the wall, a smile playing on my lips. "But I _suppose_ I could grace you with my help."

She laughs loudly, and it reverberates off the metal walls, resonating pleasantly in my ears. _I suppose she's got an nice laugh._

"Thanks, you're a real gentleman." She smiles and sticks her head in the fridge, her long red-tinted locks disappearing in the cold silver apparatus.

I continue to rummage through the dusty cupboards, bypassing cans of anchovies and tomato sauce in hopes of something more favourable. It's only when I hear Annie grunt in discomfort that I look up to see a dancing pair of sea green eyes and a wonderful grin.

Leaving her face, I bring my sight down to the object she has in her hands. Well, in her_ arms_. It's a bucket absolutely overflowing... with peaches. -Deliciously soft fuzzed light orange and pale red spheres that I can smell from here.

She shifts the heavy basket in her arms and picks one up from the pile, struggling with the weight before I stand up and easily take it from her hands. She gives me a look of surprise, and I only return it with a smirk. The girl had fight, but her arms weren't built for heavy lifting like this.

Pressing her thumb into one of the soft fruits, she releases it quickly and I watch as the skin turns a light purple.

"See," She smiles. "Me and these guys are just a couple of tunas in a school." **(A/N I was just trying to use an analogy D4 people would use... it made sense in my head, even if we wouldn't use it in real life! It was a lame form of 'peas in a pod')**

"You're both permanently blushing, so you've got that similarity too." Her laughter and my grin coincide as we exit the kitchen and dining room, neither of us quite knowing where we're going. Twisting and turning through the hallways, each one outdoing in the other in laughter, we eventually end up on the terrace of her room, blankets folded around her slim unprotected legs, a sweater haphazardly thrown over her shoulders. We let our legs hang through the small space between the floor and railings, our bare feet twirling in the night air.

Peach juice drips down my cheek, and I'm fighting it so ridiculously with my tongue soon Annie is clutching her sides, holding a hand over her mouth in an attempt to keep her own dinner in.

"You ever do this with your boyfriend?" I ask casually, picking at the stem of my newest peach as I recall the image of the dark-haired guy who'd shoved his finger in my chest at the train station.

"What?" She asks through a mouthful of peach, swallowing hard before continuing. "I don't have a boyfriend," She laughs.

"The guy from the train-station? Shorter than me, dark slicked-back hair?" I probe, genuinely interested in the topic.

"Carp?" She asks incredulously.

"That's the guy!" I snap my fingers, remembering when her other friend had called his name.

"He's not my boyfriend!" She laughs louder, nearly choking on a mouthful of the sweet fruit. "No, you've got it all wrong!"

"Well he seemed pretty protective of you," I mentioned, chuckling as I bite into my handful.

"Carp is _gay,_" She answers, sitting up to gauge my reaction. We're both silent for a second before enveloping into laughter all over again.

We continue to eat in laughter and smiles until we've finished half the barrel, both of us clutching our stomachs in a hazy form of regret and bliss.

"I don't think I'll ever eat a peach again," I moan, eyes closed to my surroundings, rubbing my protesting stomach. "I must've eaten over a dozen."

"Oh, I'll make sure you do!" She laughs, and I can hear her bring her hands from her sides to prop her head up. "Cause_ I_ most certainly will."

"Which means I have to?" I argue, chortling at her logic. I wait for a response, but several seconds pass with nothing before I open my eyes to see if Annie is still by my side.

**(STOP. LISTEN TO: I'M WITH YOU AVRIL LAVIGNE ACOUSTIC (COVER) BY NYLON TAPESTRY - this can be found on YouTube. PLAY ON REPEAT.)**

She is. She's bundled up in layers of blankets, and all I can see of her remaining body is her neck and face, but nonetheless she's still there. But she chooses to stay silent, and I don't know why, but I know not to disturb her.

A minute goes by, a minute and a half. The silence begins to make me uncomfortable, and I shift to get a better look at her. As I'm about to speak, she beats me to it.

"The stars," She whispers. "They're out." She turns to me, her eyes so full of joy it makes my heart ache. The stars are never visible from the Capitol.

Confused, I turn my eyes upwards and search the dark sky. Sure enough, she's right. They're hidden and dull compared to the dazzling ones we see in D4, but Annie's right, they've managed to shine through the Capitol's smog and lights tonight.

"Yeah," I whisper back. "They are." I return my gaze to her, but she's already lifted her orbs to the bright beings.

We're silent for another few minutes, and she sighs contently. I'm almost afraid to speak to her in this state; afraid to disturb her inner peace. She must have such a wonderful mind, Annie. She's always wrapped up in it. I can't stand my mind... but her's must be nice.

"Aren't they beautiful?" She sighs, not letting her lids interrupt her vision once as she stares at the heavenly bodies.

I'm quiet for a second, unsure of if I should answer. She turns to me, innocent eyes - so very innocent - looking at my expectantly. The moonlight hits her face and it strikes me how dazzling her green eyes are in this twilight. The moon agrees with her.

"I love stars because they're always there," I respond softly. It shocks me that I'm telling this to her, but her presence, the moonlight, is so calming I can't stop the words from spilling out. "Unlike people, who you have to leave behind. Unlike the sea, that I have to leave behind in Four. The stars are always around, even if they're hiding, they come out eventually."

I don't know how I expect Annie to react to this, but when her response is silence I realize it's the best possible answer I could receive. It's no longer an awkward or strained quiet, it's simply her accepting my thoughts and getting lost in her own. And somehow I know this.

I'd become so wrapped up in the carnal world of constant communication that I've forgotten how nice it was to just_ not talk_ and be _comfortable_ with it.

How long we lay there I don't know, but between the sweet, sticky scent of the peaches, the blinking stars and Annie's steady breath, I couldn't help but feel this was the best I'd felt in a long time. My mind was at times both completely blank and overflowing full, but either way, I didn't mind. Everything just felt right.

"I think," Her voice drifted into my mind, as soft and delicious as the peaches. "I think if everyone sat and looked at the stars every night the world would be an entirely different place."

I nodded, realizing the truth in her statement. I was returning to my previous haze, thinking about Annie's theory, when the wail of a siren pierced the previously calm night air and dragged me a step away from the zen space I was so beguiled with.

_The Games. Annie. Tribute. Sacrifice._

"You're not her," I breathed, heart beginning to pound at the mention of the subject.

She sighs, and I can hear her bringing herself back a notch from the peaceful place. "So I'm Penthesilea then, am I?"

"Yes," I respond. "I guess. I don't know," I exhale exasperatedly.

"Maybe you didn't do your research well enough," She chuckles darkly. "They both die anyway."

"Well that's fine, because you're neither of them. You're Annie. Not Penthesilia or Iphigenia or anyone else. And your fate isn't written yet." The calmness of my own voice surprises me.

"Finnick," Her voice breaks slightly, just enough that I can hear the pain in her voice. "There's twenty-four of us in there and only one comes out. I know my odds. I'm just trying to prepare for it. Don't give me false hope, _please. _Just let me deal with this how I can." Her words are so jarring and heart-wrenching I can feel my insides twist. The way she stressed _please, _as if I could hurt her with my support, left me wringing my blanket, eyes shut tightly.

I look over to her face, which would be blank except for the tear running down her cheek. Slowly, my hand finds hers beneath the blankets. I don't lace my fingers through hers, or grip it tightly, but I place it just over hers so she knows I'm here.

There's no sharp intake of breath, no gasp, but there may as well have been. The thing buzzing between us is so palpable I'm sure even she can't deny it. I don't know if we're in some state of limbo that allows for a false reality or an escape from the real world - I don't know if tomorrow we'll wake up and this night won't count. But I want it to. And suddenly, more than anything, I know I want her out of that Arena alive.

"You're going to get out of there," I feel her shiver, despite the layers of blankets over her lithe form. "I know you are. And I know I'm not supposed to be choosing you over Amphitrite, but I am. But if you want to come out alive, you have to want it. You hear me? No more talks of being a sacrificial lamb - that won't get you back home."

She remains silent, not bothering to wipe the tears from her face, simply letting them fall onto the ground below us.

"I want to come back," She finally answers. "I just don't know if I have anything left to live for."

My hand squeezes hers slightly. "I don't think I believe that."

We turn our gazes to each other and I stare into her green eyes as the moonlight dances through them, leaving a sparkle in them and casting light across her face. In the moon's light her skin looks as perfect and flawless as porcelain.

_She just needs a friend. That's all she needs. Be that for her. _I echo to myself, unfamiliar with being this close to a woman when I'm not being payed to do so. It's foreign, and a little uncomfortable, but mostly it feels normal and even a little soothing.

She smiles softly and the tears seem to temporarily cease. We watch the stars for another few minutes before silently packing up and dispersing, small smiles our only goodbyes. I return to my room, both confused and elated at once. I peel off my outer layers of clothes and sink onto the bed, mind racing with thoughts of the night.

So I sit, still inhaling the scent of peaches, and wondering how time has suddenly begun to stand still.

* * *

><p>SO DID YOU LIKE IT? SUPER EMOTIONAL AND INTENSE ANNIE AND FINNICK! Big break through! I'm trying not to make them go too fast, so right now Finnick's hand-holding and comforting is more in an attempt to become her friend rather than lover. He feels the sparks but is pushing them away, choosing to be what she needs. Which is a friend! At least for right now;) You'll notice how quickly Annie's emotions change, but Finnick doesn't mind, or even seem to notice!<p>

ANNIE'S OUTFIT: h t t p : / / f o t o s . f o t o f l e x e r . c o m / 8 9 6 0 a 0 6 8 5 1 d 9 b 8 d 4 6 5 6 c f b 1 9 4 c 2 1 1 f 8 9 . j p g (the skirt, in my version, is a bit longer, ending more mid/lower-thigh than upper-thigh.

Okay, so the next update should be more related to Annie's training day/alliances/instructions for the dance (which won't be coming for a few more chapters, sorry!). I've got a few milestones for them to go through first, so while I update on training scores/alliances and such there will be romantic events, don't you worry:)

Again, I'm SO sorry for the delay, I hope the length of this chapter made up for it!


	13. A Lamb For The Devil

SORRY guys, sorry sorry sorry. It's the only word I can say, and I can't say it enough. I haven't given up on this story, and I don't plan on it! The past few weeks have been craaaazy, I was away on a school trip, finishing up a semester, and just yesterday I had my last exam. Even then, I'm taking a whole bunch of volunteer positions, all to do with journalism - so it means I've had to write some other stuff before I turned my attention to Translucent Waters. I hope you guys haven't given up on me!

_Don't know why I'm still afraid  
>If you weren't real I would make you up now<br>I wish that I could follow through  
>I know that your love is true<br>and deep  
>as the sea<br>__  
>But right now<br>everything you want is wrong,  
>and right now<br>all your dreams are waking up,  
>and right now<br>I wish I could follow you  
>to the shores<br>of freedom,  
>where no one lives.<em>

Honey and The Moon; Joseph Arthur

* * *

><p><strong>ANNIE'S POV<strong>

I pushed myself onto my toes, eyes downcast as I recalled the events of last night. They still seemed surreal... but it had happened. Hadn't it?

It would make sense that it had all been a dream. The peaches, the stars, Finnick. It was a recipe for a love-struck Capitol girl's nightly fantasy. But I had felt his hand rest on mine; felt the electricity shoot throughout my limbs. I felt the tears trickle down my cheek. Felt the silence of our goodbye ring in my ears.

I replayed his beautiful face, so close to mine, wondering what he -

"Annie," Amphitrite's hands shook my from my reverie. His tone was serious, his eyes concerned. "Let's try you out at some more offensive techniques. We need to figure out what you're best at."

I sighed and nodded, following him to a nearly empty station filled with black leather whips. I eyed the metal-studded weapons with contempt, taking in every curve and line of the object that could soon be killing me or maiming someone else.

With a deep breath I approached the weapon, feeling the surprisingly heavy object in my hand. The instructor was babbling something into my ear excitedly while Amphitrite stood off to the side, arms folded, looking uninterested.

I silenced the jabbering of the man by muting him in my own head, gripping the leather with unexcited fingers. Slowly I brought my hand up, my wrist flexing naturally against the weight, feeling a pleasantly heavy tug. Without a thought I flicked the whip at a dummy twenty metres away, barely concentrating on my target. I set the whip down immediately, uncomfortable with the familiarity I held with it. Briefly I glanced upwards to check if I'd done any damage - and indeed I had. Some _massive_ damage. _Fatal_ damage. The sharp metal barbs of the whip had torn right into the simulated flesh of the dummy and ripped it apart, cotton falling in light chunks onto the floor. The whip had sliced it almost in half, a vertical scar running from its neck to hip.

The instructor was suddenly very excited, patting my back with vigor and smiling insanely. Amphitrite was almost as stoic as always, but his eyebrows creased and his mouth parted involuntarily, betraying his shock.

I looked at them, my eyes widening as I turned from one to the other, backing away slowly. I was good at it. I was _really_ good.

I turned and walked away from them without another word, heading straight for the water cooler. I concentrated on the flow of cold liquid from jug to paper cup as I attempted to halt my whirring thoughts.

"Why did you just run away? Annie, you're a natural with a whip! Jeez, where'd you learn how to do that? Why didn't you say anything about this before? I mean, even at the training center -"

"I'm good at it." I stated simply, taking a sip of water.

Amphitrite looks at me oddly, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Well yeah, that's what I'm say-"

"That's why I can't touch it again." I interrupted him, finishing off the small portion of water and refilling it.

"What?" He stared at me. "Are you crazy? This is your opportunity-"

"To kill someone," I cut him off again, eyes searching his solemnly. "That's my chance to kill someone." I ran a hand through my hair, closing my eyes to his stare. I couldn't take the look in his orbs. "I can't do it." I managed to squeak, my voice low and raspy. "I can't consciously take someone's life away."

I opened my eyes, and Amphitrite rubbed his neck in silence. We continued to stare at each other for several awkward more seconds before he broke the silence.

"This isn't voluntary, Annalaese." His words and the soft comfort in his eyes surprise me. "This is the Hunger Games. This is a corrupt system that forces us, young kids, to fight to the death. Do you think anyone would be here by their own will?"

I looked around the room, smiling darkly when I reached the Careers from Districts 1 and 2.

"Besides them?" I teased.

"Even they wouldn't have had to do this if Panem hadn't created this stupid thing," His voice became a whisper but his passion flared, and suddenly I wondered if he was speaking more about himself than the Careers.

I eyed him curiously, taking in his words. "You're right," I decided. "But I still can't do it. I have to play the Games, but I won't kill anyone."

"Annie," He sighed exasperatedly. "You don't know what you're saying... I mean, what if I'm not around and someone comes at you with -"

"I'll run, climb, swim - there are ways around it, 'Trite. And besides, who says I'm going to let you out of my sight?" I allowed myself to stretch my lips into a full smile.

He attempts to smile with me, but he brings his eyes to the floor and draws his lips into a thin line, obviously unhappy with my decision. After several more seconds of silence, he opens his mouth to respond.

"There's something I should -" He cuts himself short, staring over my shoulder.

"What?" I ask. "What are you looking at?" I turn around, eyebrows creasing quizzically at his strange behaviour. Following his line of gaze, it's not long before I see what he does.

The Careers are approaching us. All four of them.

My heart begins to palpitate, my palms sweat, and I grip onto the fabric of Amphitrite's shirt as he moves to stand slightly in front of me protectively.

"Are you going to make an alliance with them?" I ask, my voice nearly inaudible.

_I don't want to. I don't. I really, really don't... don't make me, Amphitrite... _

"Just let me do the talking." He answers, eyes steely and staring straight through the intimidating foursome.

_**LISTEN TO: OFF TO THE RACES BY LANA DEL RAY (ON REPEAT)**_

I nod and begin to analyze the group approaching us. The two from District 2 are obvious, I remember them from the chariots - both dark-haired and tan. The girl couldn't have been over 14, with shoulder-length dark chocolate hair and an angular face. Her eyes flashed with an unnatural brightness and I couldn't imagine the smirk on her lips ever changing into a smile.

The boy was like Amphitrite in that he was stoic, but that was where the similarities ended. He towered over him by several inches, and his caramel-coloured hair was cropped close to his head. His jaw was extremely chiseled, his body large but muscular. He would definitely be a threat.

The remaining two were from District 1, then. Unlike in the last pair, it was the girl who intimidated me more this time. Her white-blonde hair was pulled tightly behind her into a high ponytail, showcasing her sharp cheekbones and gray eyes. She was only slightly taller than me in stature; but it was the look in her eyes that frightened me. It showed no real human emotion.

The boy by her side was surprisingly similar to Carp in looks; so much so that I had to avoid doing a double-take when I gazed at him. He was larger, his hair more voluminous and his lips thinner, but other than that they could have been twins.

"Well, hello District 4." The blonde girl greeted us, no sign of welcome on her pale face.

"Hello," We chorused, Amphitrite keeping his stance, one leg in front of me.

"We've been watching you," The other girl spoke, tilting her head and letting her upper lip slip up into something reminiscent of a snarl.

"And we might be interested in you joining us." The Carp-lookalike finished, his tone bored and impassive but his eyes fastened on mine.

The fourth member of the group, the tall boy from District 2, remained silent, only surveying us.

"Who says we're interested in you?" Amphitrite challenged, staring down the girl from 1.

"Oh, please." She scoffed. "Anyone would be lucky to run with us." She sneered, eyeing us up and down with contempt.

I immediately hated her.

"Speaking of us, I'm Adonis." The boy from her district smiled cockily, shifting his weight as he crossed his arms, displaying the muscles of his arms.

_How he must revel in that name,_ I shook my head internally. Only someone from District 1 would be able to name their child something so ridiculous and vain.

"I'm Vonlea." The blonde added. "And that's Thessaly and Sybilis." Thessaly, the brunette girl, smile-snarled again at her name and Sybilis, the guy, simply nodded.

_Vonlea. She was the girl who requested to be Beauty in the dance..._

"Annalaese. But everyone calls me Annie." I responded, sending a smile over Amphitrite's shoulder.

Vonlea gave a frown of repugnance at my smile, turning her gaze away from me. "And you, handsome?"

_Handsome?_ I nearly bit through my lip. Was she hitting on Amphitrite? Seriously? It wasn't that he wasn't handsome... but she didn't seem the romantic type, per se.

"Amphitrite." He answered monotonously, not satisfying her with flirtation. Then again, I wasn't sure Amphitrite could flirt. He seemed too serious to do something so trivial.

"We've seen what you two can do, and you just might be a helpful addition to our pack. Amphitrite, you have some strengths with spears and swords worthy of our group. You, Annie, we were still on the fence about -" Vonlea eyed me coyly, taking satisfaction in sizing me up. I resisted the urge to step fully behind Amphitrite and curl up - that was what she wanted.

Amphitrite's eyes turned cold as stone. "We're a package deal, Vonlea. I don't join without Annie."

"Oh, hush." She batted her eyes at him. "You didn't let me finish my sentence, darling."

Adonis shifted uncomfortably next to her, glaring at the back of her head. He subconsciously leaned closer to her, but she took several steps towards us and away from him.

"We were on the fence till we saw your skills with the whip. We could use that... I mean, not even Sybilis is that good with it, and he knows how to use everything," She circled us, shrugging nonchalantly.

I didn't trust this girl. At all. Everything about her was poisonous - with her there was no doubt; as soon as we turned our backs, we'd find a knife in them. But they were the _Careers. _Refusing them would be more dangerous than anything else.

"So, what will it be?" Vonlea narrowed her eyes and returned to her post at the head of the Careers.

"How do we know you won't just stab us in the back?" Amphitrite asked, cocking his head with an abundance of courage I couldn't fathom.

"Oh, I will." She smiled, a movement that looked like a piranha's grimace, and a shiver ran down my spine. Everything about her felt _wrong_. She turned her attention from Amphitrite to me, eyeing me with supremacy. The pit of my stomach churned, and my fists began to ball themselves.

"It's just a matter of if we stab her first," I finished for her, not letting my eyes move from her own.

Her expression fell for a diminutive second, so quickly it was almost unperceivable, before she returned to her carefully guarded facade.

We stared at each other for several more seconds, no one daring to interrupt our silent battle.

Vonlea opened her mouth to respond when Faith and Fathom called our attention to the center of the room.

"The training center will be closing within the next few minutes. For those of you participating in the dance, grab your things and come with us." The girl I recognized as Faith - she had a singular black freckle on her left cheek, while Fathom did not - waved at us and began to exit the room.

"So do we have a deal?" Vonlea hissed, sharing her venomous gray eyes between me and Amphitrite. "You join our pack, and in turn, we don't kill you - at least not in the beginning."

Amphitrite leaned towards the ground and snapped up both our bags in one fluid movement. "For now, Vonlea." He answered, walking towards the door without so much a glance in their direction.

"They could be the death of us," I whispered, keeping my body posture calm and unaffected as we wound through the hallways, following Faith.

Amphitrite turned his eyes to me temporarily, face betraying nothing as we struggled to protect our conversation from our new alliance.

"Or we could be the death of them."

* * *

><p><em><strong>END MUSIC.<strong>_

"The dance does not require skill so much as it requires grace," The voice of Mariou Bever, the choreographer, reverberated throughout the room.

He was a stern man, with tendrils of gray hair that fell in perfectly coiffed waves to just below his ears. His face was not completely unattractive, but with a high and pointed chin, sharp cheekbones, and close-set, small eyes he wasn't handsome either. But he moved with such poise it left one in shock; and he could have looked worse - but for some reason he had refrained from Capitol aesthetic alterations.

"There are two parts to this - this show," He explained, walking slowly around the room, surveying his would-be students. The tributes participating stood at attention in four rows of six, spaced far enough apart he could weave through us. The male mentors were more casually lined up at the back of the room, most looking bored and simply continuing on conversations.

Finnick was among them, but unlike the mass of the bulked-and-buffed men he was paying attention to everything Mariou said - albeit with his hands shoved in his pockets and a blank look on his face. But I knew better by now; Finnick was more than capable of looking one way while feeling quite another.

"The first part involves real dancing, and even some acting," Mariou continued. "You, the tributes, will be partaking in that." He gestured to our general group.

"And the second part..." He glanced towards the mentors. "Well, we'll get to that later." He allowed a smile to creak onto his aged face.

"Now, formations, you lazy buggars! Quick, quick!" He clapped his hands and we startled haphazardly into the pose we had previously shown us.

He surveyed us quietly for a moment before lowering his head into his hands.

"Oh Gods, this is going to be a lot of work."

Two hours later I was sweating, stinging and aching even worse than I had after my first training session. Mariou had yelled at us for the remainder of the hours about how lazy, uncoordinated and clumsy we were. To give him credit, once he saw one of us do something right - which wasn't often - he gave us due applause.

I had managed to replicate the delicate back-bending move he had shown us at one point, and his eyes sparkled when he gripped my face with his hands and shook it.

"Sei bella! Sei bella, darling girl!" He had chanted, seconds before storming off to the front of the pack to yell at the boy from District 6 for dropping his partner. I wasn't sure what the foreign language was, but I gathered it must have been taught in the Capitol.

I was groaning to Amphitrite and attempting to crack my back when Mariou clapped loudly at the front of the room.

"Eyes here! With me! Here, you idle children!" He snapped. "Stand up straight and stop moaning! Your roles are about to be assigned to you," The smile that came on his face made me wary, like a fish of a suspicious hanging net.

"By the President."

With that, Mariou moved to the side of the room, and the formerly solid front wall flickered before completely disintegrating.

The room let out a collective gasp - standing dead center behind the glass of the one-sided wall was President Snow himself, clothed in a pristine white suit and clutching a series of small blank white cards.

_President Snow. _My heart began to beat faster, and my stomach began to churn. I felt as if I was going to be sick.

He had been watching us this entire time - probably heard our every word, too. Even without his omnipresence he would have been intimidating, now he was terrifying.

"Good evening," His voice boomed into the room. "You have all given an excellent performance today, and I thank-you." My palms suddenly began to sweat, and when he licked his puffy lips I felt my chest heave in repugnance.

I couldn't be around him. It was even worse than Vonlea - with her, I could at least stay in the same room. But something about white-haired Snow made my skin crawl.

"My associates and I will deliberate over who will receive the roles Faith previously dictated to you."

His beady eyes slowly crept from the middle of the room towards me, and for a second everything seemed incredibly silent.

His eyes met mine.

My heart stopped.

"May the odds _ever_ be in your favor."

And like that, the microphone clicked off, the wall reappeared, and he was gone.

* * *

><p>Okay, I know that wasn't the most exciting chapter, but you guys deserved SOMETHING. I know by now in most FinnickAnnie FanFics, the story has moved much farther along - and I'm sorry if this is boring for you guys, but I'm really just trying to form their complete story:)

But what did you think of Annie aligning with the Careers? And how about Vonlea? Which (at least in my mind) is pronounced Von-lay. And Mariou is like Mario, but with more of a "ew" sound at the end.. just saying, ahhahhah.

I look forward to your feedback!


	14. Pretty Little Oddity

**I own nothing!**

First I'd just like to give a thanks to RockwellAnonymous (I don't know your regular account name, hahaha, sorry!), CrashAgainstMySkin and HdraSense for reviews that really helped me to continue! It meant a lot! And to the select few who review every chapter, or most chapters, I can't say how much it means! Really, every time I see a review from you guys it really touches me that you've stuck with the story so long:) And finally to ALL my readers, you guys are my inspiration! Thank-you!

_I don't mind where you come from,_  
><em>As long as you come to me.<em>  
><em>But I don't like illusions, I can't see<em>  
><em>them clearly.<em>  
><em>I don't care, no I wouldn't dare<em>  
><em>To fix the twist in you.<em>  
><em>You've shown me eventually what you'll do.<em>  
><em>I don't mind,<em>  
><em>I don't care,<em>  
><em>As long as you're here.<em>

All the Same; Sick Puppies.

* * *

><p><strong>ANNIE'S POV<strong>

His eyes.

There was something off about his eyes.

Was that what made him so terrifying?

No, it was definitely his skin. There was something rubbery and inhuman about it...

Was it his hands?

"That's not it either!" I whispered to myself, flinging a small book across the room in frustration.

There was something _wrong_ with President Snow, and I couldn't figure out what it was. I had seen him dozens of times on the broadcasting screens of D4, his thin body infinitely encased in white cloth, but seeing him in person had been an entirely different experience. I _still_ had goosebumps.

A ran a hand through my hair and shuddered as my mind involuntarily dragged the image of Snow's eyes locking with mine in the dancing room. Every time I pictured him I had to squeeze my eyes shut and think of the ocean to make him go away, and even then he occasionally lingered for a few lasting seconds.

Sighing, I trotted to the closet and picked out a large white sweater and allowed the luxuriously heavy fabric attempt to reverse my shivering. I let out a laugh when I looked in the mirror, realizing how big the sweater actually was - it fell to my mid thigh and hung off my shoulder, but if Leif put it in there I'm sure this was how it was supposed to be.

I kept my soft cotton shorts on instead of uncomfortably tight jeans or leggings, and pulling open my sock drawer I was surprised at the lack of high socks. I settled for a pair of white legwarmers instead.

I wrestled my mass of hair into a ponytail, smiling when I felt my hair swing back and forth as I walked. I loved that feeling.

When I stared at the large selection of shoes in front of me I smiled wickedly before turning around, deciding going barefoot would be the highlight of my night - if only to see Stark's reaction at the dinner table.

I ignored the mirror as I skipped happily to the door. _It's not like I have to impress anyone,_ I scoffed.

Pulling open the heavy door, I had managed to eliminate almost all thoughts of Snow, but there was still a strange current running through my blood.

I was so concentrated on _not_ thinking of Snow, eyes downcast at the carpet, that I ran straight into something resembling a wall.

But walls didn't have two legs, a steel-like abdomen or intelligent blue eyes.

I rubbed my head dramatically. "And I suppose you were just waiting out here to make sure that happened?"

Amphitrite laughed his brilliant, usually unheard laugh and helped me steady myself.

"Ready for dinner?" He asked with a chuckle, turning us down the hallway.

"I would be sprinting down this hall if I wasn't so sore," I laughed, looping my arm through his.

"I think Mariou worked us harder than Faith and Fathom ever have." He responded, chuckling lightly.

"Oh, absolutely." I agreed, swishing my hair behind me as I nodded.

Amphitrite was silent for a moment. "We need to tell Mags and Finnick about our new alliance."

A shiver ran down my back as I thought about Vonlea and her dangerous eyes. The despairing grey seemed to pierce right through you, choking your soul slowly.

"Are we really going to go through with it, 'Trite?" I asked quietly, already afraid of the answer.

"We have no other options, Annie." He sighed tiredly, and for the first time I saw the purple bags under his eyes. These past few days hadn't been good to him. "If we refuse them, they'll come after us for sure. They're vindictive enough to crave our blood if we spurn them, especially Vonlea."

I tightened my grip on his large arm, my heart beating ferociously as we rounded the last corner to the dining room.

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." I sighed, pulling open the glass door.

Amphitrite looked at me curiously.

"It's from a book," I laughed, receding from Amphitrite's hold as we settled into our respective seats.

"Is there any book out there you haven't read?"

I swiveled my head to find Finnick mocking me from the other doorway, his wonderful green eyes surveying me with a sparkle.

I felt a blush rise to my cheeks as it always did when I saw Finnick. "You should try putting your eyes on one, Finnick. They're quite lovely."

"Oh, but they so prefer to rest on you, my dear." He purred, giving me a quick, soft smile paired with a wink.

I bit my lip and looked at my plate, feeling the heat of both Mags's and Leif's eyes on me. Amphitrite was busy glaring at Finnick, obviously disapproving of his flirtation.

When I returned my gaze upward, I found Mags watching me curiously. I smiled, unsure of what to say, and she simply smiled back warmly before continuing a conversation with Finnick.

While Amphitrite and I were debating the merits of tuna and salmon, we were suddenly interrupted by a clutter on the other side of the wall and the slam of a door, followed by Stark's high-pitched whine.

"I'm sure it's just a mistake! It will be excellent, Gasteau, your creations are divine! No! No! Don't_ leave_,"

We all looked around at each other in confusion, unable to hear the rest of her hushed tones and a man's undecipherable shouts. After several more seconds she burst into the room, a slight pink blush on her blue cheeks, creating an odd purple shade.

She was in quite a disarray by Stark standards, her hair wild and outfit rumpled.

"The cook apologizes for the delay in our dinner," Amphitrite and I exchanged glances as she straightened out her skirt. "But apparently the peaches he was using in today's entree are missing. _All_ of them."

A hand flew to my mouth, attempting to keep in the noises of surprise that struggled to escape. _The peaches!_ My heart beat rapidly.

I snuck a glance at Finnick, who was staring at me, looking as if he was about to burst. We eyed each other, both letting out a strangled cough, attempting to surpress our laughter.

"It's quite a shame really, he was planning on a lovely peach-and-lamb dish. I'll have to talk to someone about the lack of organization around here, it's almost appalling."

I put my forehead in my hands and hid myself behind it, tears running down my face as I hysterically laughed in silence. I saw Finnick's elbow hit the table from the corner of my eye, and I could only assume he was doing the same thing.

"Is there a problem, Finnick?" Stark asked, her haughty voice clipped.

I let the laughter slide down my throat, attempting to control myself so I could watch the interaction between Finnick and the blue-skinned escort play out.

"Oh, no problem at all." He replied, his beguiling face layered with charm. "Unless, of course, you don't come sit and eat with us soon."

My laughter stopped as I bit my tongue.

Stark breathed heavily, smiling so intensely I could feel my own cheeks hurt. "Of course I'm coming, Finnick, darling."

"Good," He responded, taking a sip of water. "I hate to start eating before everyone's at the table, and I'm starved."

* * *

><p>After we'd finished the soup-and-salad courses the strategy talk officially began.<p>

"What's the news of the day? How did the choreography go?" Mags asked, dabbing her mouth lightly with her napkin.

"Pretty well," I responded. "I mean, I definitely need some practice, but I think we'll be able to do it well enough before the pageant rolls around."

"And the choreographer just_ loved_ her." Finnick interjected. "More or less gushed over her every movement."

"Finnick!" I laughed, turning my gaze to the blond. His jaw was dusted with stubble, making him look older than I knew he was. Despite the facial hair, there was a youthful glint in his eyes that made my heart twist.

_Maybe -_

"We made an alliance."

All eyes turned to Amphitrite, and my heart sank.

Finnick's eyes immediately returned to me. "Annie, is this true?" His voice already held concern. "With who?"

I couldn't look at him, let alone tell him it was with the Careers. I just couldn't. He'd be so upset, then he wouldn't want to talk to me... I stared at Amphitrite with wide eyes, but he ignored my silent plea to keep quiet, only staring ahead with a locked jaw.

"With the Careers."

_"What?"_

Mags fork clanged against the table as it fell from her hand, but it wasn't her voice that admonished us so loudly. It was Finnick, whose shapely mouth had fallen slightly open, whose bright eyes were burning right through mine with pain and confusion.

I opened my mouth several times, gaping like a fish, in an attempt to tell him what had transpired.

"It just happened so fast," I managed to whisper, staring at him meekly from across the table. "I'm sorry."

"Wha -" Finnick rubbed his face, for the first time lost as to what to say. "Why would you do that? What the hell would make you think that was a good idea?"

Amphitrite glared at him. "You played and won your Games, Finnick. But you don't know ours. You don't know the Careers - the girl from 1, Vonlea? She would've snapped Annie's neck the minute the horn blew if we'd declined their offer."

"Then you snap hers first," He retorted, eyes blazing as the two clashed. It occured to me only then the rivalry they might be feeling - both strong, athletic males with only an age difference of a year or so. I can't say I condoned it, really I found it rather childish - I mean, finding the alpha dog among the two wasn't of high importance during these weeks - but I understood why there was tension between the two.

Or so I thought I did.

"And I will!" Amphitrite raised his voice. "Do you think I would let anything happen to Annie?"

"I don't know, Amphitrite, you're the Career." Finnick's voice was a low growl that we all knew implied more than he was letting on. Amphitrite retaliated to the insult by standing up with a _bang_, dropping his silverware.

"You got something you want to say, pretty boy?"

I stood with him, resting my hand on Amphitrite's coiled fist. "Enough, boys." I shot a glance in Finnick's direction. "What's done is done. Now please, calm down so we can talk about what to do next."

"Annie's right, this is helping no one." Mags interjected, eyeing the boys cautiously. "Finnick, settle yourself."

Mags and I exchanged a knowing glance as we calmed down the men on our respective sides.

"Now, Amphitrite, you said they approached you?" She continued, her soft voice investigating the subject without enraging the boys. He nodded stiffly, motioning for the Avox to his left to bring him more water.

"Unfortunately so." I added, realizing Amphitrite had turned back into virtual stone. "They seemed unsure about me, but after I... uh..." I cut myself, suddenly unwilling to share my abilities with a whip with Finnick and Mags.

"After you what?" Finnick asked, his face devoid of all previous anger, instead layered with intrigue and slight apprehension.

I closed my eyes briefly, sucking in a breath. "They saw me with a whip. Turns out all those years of fishing taught my wrist a thing or two," I attempted to smile, but I could feel the edges of my lips wobbling in protest. It wasn't real.

Mags and Finnick sat silently, taking in the new information. Mags chewed thoughtfully on her lamb while Finnick pushed his leftovers around on his plate, looking frustrated. I stole a glance back at Amphitrite, who was staring off into the distance, the only reminance of his anger showing on his slightly flushed cheeks. My eyes fluttered back to Finnick, whose profile I lingered on. He really was beautiful. His exceptionally chiselled jaw was locked tight, his slightly protruding cheek bones pink from exertion. Even while his eyes remained focused on his plate and not on me, the brilliance of the green continued to strike me.

But his beauty was marred by anger. Anger at Amphitrite. Anger over me, because they knew I couldn't hold my own against the Careers.

"Please don't be mad at 'Trite," I gazed at him softly. He looked up at me, and when I noticed his green eyes watered slightly, my heart beat ferociously. He was hurt. Upset. And that made me want to break down and cry. I didn't want Finnick to be sad. He was too... too wonderful to be sad.

"He was only protecting me," I croaked.

The whole table remained silent as he gazed back at me tiredly. "We've got the same goal, Annie."

Without another word he dropped his napkin on his plate and walked out, leaving the room in an eerie reverie.

No one knew what to say. No one knew what to do.

We all ached. We were all tired, sore, and losing to the darkness. But The Hunger Games were coming, and there was no time for weakness.

My eyelids slowly slid shut, and I desperately tried to grasp at the memory of the sea. The sea never hurt me. The sea loved me.

The sea was beautiful.

I loved the sea.

And I missed it so much. Smiling towards the collective group, I nodded gratefully at the Avoxes before making my departure from the silent dining room.

I let my bare feet drag across the carpet, realizing I hadn't even bothered to tease Stark with my naked toes. I felt the rough material beneath my heels gratefully, wondering how many more terrains I would feel before I descended into the darkness.

I wonder what it's like, dying. You hear tales, but one can never rely on the gossiping spinsters for proper facts. Perhaps it's wonderful and bright and maybe there's even a sea. I hoped there would be a sea when I died.

_No. _I stopped myself. Finnick made me promise not to think of such morbid thoughts anymore.

_Oh, Finnick. Why do you have to -_

"Y'know, when you stare at the ground, you miss all the pretty faces topside."

**LISTEN TO: I'M WITH YOU BY JACK WALL & CINDY SHAPIRO**

I looked up to see Finnick leaning against my door, one of his dazzling real smiles on his lips.

I bit my lip, trying to contain the grin that threatened to overtake my muscles. I wasn't successful.

"I guess I'm just used to being on the beach. If you look up there, you miss all the shells." I answered, moving to the opposite wall to replicate his posture.

"You collect shells?" He replied, his lips tugging up at the corners ever-so-slightly upon learning the tidbit.

My heart was beating awfully fast. "Mhm," I nodded. "I have a whole drawer back home just filled with them." Joy ran briefly throughout my body as I remember my lovely shells. It was nice to remember something that made me happy.

Finnick didn't respond, only cocked his head and stared at me with a silly smile.

After several seconds, my cheeks scarlet with rising blood, I looked at him bashfully. "What?" I asked.

"Nothing," He responded, pushing himself off the wall. "I just love it when you smile like that."

My face felt like it had been lit on fire, but I turned my eyes downward and allowed myself a self-indulgent smile at the carpet. "Like what?" I asked, looking up at his warm face. That's what Finnick was; warm. He radiated it. His voice, his words, even his skin tone just glowed to the point I was sure even the sun couldn't rival him.

I was definitely beginning to see what all the ladies of the Capitol were.

"Like you mean it." He answered decidedly. "Sometimes it doesn't look like you mean it."

I was slightly taken aback, but more than anything I was intrigued and amused.

"Are you feeling alright, Odair?"

"You say I talk funny, don't you?" He responded immediately, staring straight ahead.

"Yeah, but that's cause you do!" I answered, words marred with laughter.

"Well, it's the same as your smiles. You've got several of them that I've seen, and I wouldn't be surprised if you had more."

I had different smiles? This was news to me. I always smiled the exact same way... I mean, occasionally it was slightly fake. But who hadn't forced a smile once or twice? I felt uncomfortable talking so prolifically about myself.

"Well at least _you're_ smiling again," I countered. "It was pretty tense back there."

"It seems Amphitrite and I have different ideas on how to protect you." He answered, directing me through the winding halls of the facility.

I wasn't quite sure how to answer this. _You shouldn't be concerned about protecting me_ came to mind, but we both knew that wasn't true. It was his job. And after his revelation on the rooftop last night, I could hardly pretend he was concerned with Amphitrite's safety. _I can take care of myself_ popped up too, but yet again the both of us would know how much of a lie that was.

"What if this is what's best?" I asked, genuinely curious of his answer.

He rubbed his face tiredly before shoving his fist in his pocket with a sigh. "Annie, I know this is a different year and a different Hunger Games, like he said. But that doesn't mean I don't know the game. I know Careers. I know their motives, their moves, their strategies. I've been studying these people for years."

I turned my head to study him momentarily. He was obviously beautiful, in all the ways I had already known. In the ways everyone knew and loved. But how could all his admirers miss the melancholy in his eyes, the weary expression of a traveller lost coating his face? Was it just me, or was there a slight purplish colour resting under his eyes?

Somehow I doubted it was makeup that hid all this from the Capitol. It was their own corrupted sight.

"He did what he thought was best," I exhaled, staring at my feet once again.

"I know he did." He paused thoughtfully. "Are you scared?"

I laughed briefly. "What a silly question."

Finnick cleared his throat uncomfortably, eyeing the wallpaper with the gaze of someone uneducated in such conversations. "I suppose it was silly," He conceded.

"I'm more afraid of _him_," I whispered, unwilling to raise my voice lest the ceilings be filled with all-hearing machines. "There's something about him I just can't figure out."

From the corner of my eye I could see Finnick's jaw tighten like it had during his confrontation with Amphitrite. His hands almost inaudibly scratched against his pant's pockets, balled fists stretching the fabric. He knew who I was talking about.

"_He_ is not fully human." His voice was scathing and full of poison, and I was surprised by his vehemance. "But don't be afraid of him, Annie. I wouldn't let him get so much as 20 feet in front of you." His voice was soft and comforting, so different from the purr I had known him to speak in just days ago.

I smiled, expecting him to continue or further explain his dislike for the President. But he didn't. Instead, he pressed his hand against my lower back, leading me into a wing of the building I had never been in before.

"Where are we going?" I could hear the excitement in my own voice.

"I'm not sure," He answered with a shrug. My smile widened. I loved that answer.

"Sounds wonderful." I laughed, enthralled in the moment.

He joined in my random laughter before eyeing me for several seconds. "You have a wonderful laugh," He added nonchalantly before turning to face forwards.

My heart hammered in my chest, and my cheeks hurt from my attempts at restraining the smile that threatened to overtake my features.

"Thanks," I squeaked, my insides fluttering.

"You're very welcome." His tone was matter-of-fact, and he hesitated awkwardly, rubbing his neck in a way that signalled our conversation was about to take another turn.

"Annie, what do you know about the other tributes?"

My smile fell, and suddenly I was tired and weary, my head aching. "Not much, Finnick, if I'm being honest."

He sighed. "Nothing? I mean, you've been training with them for a couple days now..."

"I keep to myself," I muttered. "And so does everyone else." That wasn't entirely true; I had seen small group form in the training room. I just hadn't tried to include myself.

"Well maybe you should start to branch out and, ah, start getting to know some of the others." He didn't speak to me like a mentor should. He wasn't commanding me or acting as my boss; his tone was one of a recommendation, but nonetheless one could sense the critical undertone in his words.

I took a deep breath. He just didn't understand. "I can't, Finnick."

He stopped walking, instead turning to face my defeated posture.

"What do you mean you _can't?_"

"It's - it's too hard." Was my only response. His green eyes, which were so dangerously beautiful, looked at me with confusion. I shook my head, leaning against the cold stone wall, my eyes squeezing shut.

"I can't know them and watch them die," I breathed, almost unable to speak. He remained silent, only observing me with a thoughtful expression. "I can't know their names, their life, their family and see it all shattered."

I opened my eyes, but continued to face away from him. Making eye contact seemed too monstrous a task at this point.

His silence both relieved and scared me. Relieved because his lack of questions meant I wouldn't have to answer. Scared because... well, I wasn't quite sure.

With slow, silent footsteps that could only belong to a Victor he crept to me. His body blocked mine; his face filled my vision. "You are, without a doubt, the strangest girl I've ever met."

I absorbed him for a minute; his closeness and his energy rippled throughout my body. Finally my eyes alighted with a spark and I found the energy to smile.

"Thank-you for noticing."

**END SONG**

* * *

><p><em>The next day.<em>

**FINNICK'S POV.**

No one else sees it. No one else sees her the way I do.

She smiles and laughs for Mags and Amphitrite. She twirls and giggles for Leif and Stark. She pouts and winks for the crowd.

But it's in the moments when she isn't speaking; or when she thinks no one is looking. When she's walking to her room, or waiting for Leif to dress her. It's in the moment before everyone sits down for breakfast. It's in her eyes. They are hollow, and bleak, and full of _sadness_. She never allows herself to show anyone those eyes. But I watch her; I have seen what she hides. She is _broken; _and every minute passed is more pain, another crack in her already flawed masquerade.

With me she doesn't always pretend. Because somehow she knows I'm the only other person here who understands what it's like to be utterly shattered.

I only wish I could fix her.

As I imagine the girl with the frightening eyes, her lithe form enters the choreography room with a grace that I know Mariou has taken notice to. Anyone would. She slides me a smile as she passes, and I don't miss the blood that rises to her cheeks when I wink in response.

She's so cute when she blushes.

Even when Mariou enters the room and demands attention, I can only half-heartedly listen to him, as my eyes keep returning to Annie, as does my mind. There's something about her that's just..._ special_.

But there's a voice that can pull my mind away from a vision even as beautiful as Annie.

It's Snow.

If I hadn't learned to lie so elaborately, both in words and facial expressions, over the past few years the other District mentors would be looking at very vicious snarl in this moment. The black demon cracks out of it's prison, the rust protesting against his attacks, but nonetheless he springs free and growls at the old President.

I hate him. I hate him with everything in me, and my hands itch to slice his neck open with as sharp an object as possible. He's announcing the roles each female tribute will have in the upcoming dance, starting with the Careers Amphitrite so stupidly dragged Annie into an alliance with days earlier. The girl from District 1 is chosen as Constancy, and I hear several snorts of approval from the other mentors. It's the only thing suitable for her - she's constant in her snarls and hatred. The young brunette from 2 is now to be Fidelity, and Snow explains her faithfulness to her partner has earned her the distinguished role.

He paces closer to Annie, and my fists curl reflexively. I can see her shift uncomfortably, leaning towards Amphitrite for support. That should be me, not him. She feels safe with _me_.

The small, mousy girl from 3 is chosen as Trust, for a reason I don't care to hear.

Now it's Annie's turn. I fight every instinct within me to charge my way towards them and pull her from the room, shove her onto a train and take her back home. Something like that would ensure her death, and mine.

"Ms. Cresta," He begins, his eyes sweeping over her in a way that makes my skin crawl. "With eased did we choose your role." A crooked smile fills his puffy lips, and my stomach churns. The smile looks so unnatural on his somber features. "You will be representing -"

I know it before he speaks the word.

"Beauty."

* * *

><p>I really am sorry for my lack of updates, but I've got so much going on right now it's hard to find time for TW. And I know the past two chapters have been Finnick-free, but I'm pretty sure the next one will be ALL Finnick! So yay!<p>

Anddd, if you guys want something to look forward to... the dance is coming... IN TWO CHAPTERS! Be ready, dearest readers! And I believe the next update won't be much of a disappointment either...


	15. Frightening Eyes

I sadly don't own Finnick, Annie, Snow, Panem, the Capitol or the Hunger Games!

So, after reading over my last chapter, I was really unhappy with how juvenile I sounded, how rushed it all seemed, so I attempted to make this chapter in a style I hope you'll like. Please tell me what you think, you supporters are the reason Translucent Waters is on my brain at all times! And thank-you again to all who review, you strengthen my dedication!

Warning: Mild swearing in this chapter!

_Where do you go when you're lonely  
>Where do you go when you're blue<br>Where do you go when you're lonely  
>I'll follow you<br>When the stars go blue_

_Laughing with your pretty mouth_  
><em>Laughing with your broken eyes<em>  
><em>Laughing with your lover's tongue<em>  
><em>In a lullaby<em>

When The Stars Go Blue; Ryan Adams.

* * *

><p><strong>FINNICK'S POV<strong>

I remember once, when I was little, I had seen a beautiful deer grazing in the field by my childhood home.

I had woken up in the early morning; warm, yellow light streaming through the dirtied window. Rubbing my eyes briefly, I wrapped my arms around my favourite blanket and pushed my small face up against the glass, hoping for a glimpse of something extraordinary.

I had done the same thing every morning for as far as my tattered mind could reach, each daybreak leaving me with nothing. But this one morning, while the sun was just extending its reach to the edges of the village, the foreign creature had somehow stumbled into my backyard.

Before I could squeal with delight, my innocent mind enthralled with the image of a majestic, unknown creature prancing in my vicinity, my mother drew her warm hand around my waist and cooed softly for me to hush and follow her. I could remember her still, clad in her fluffy pink robe and slippers, holding me to her waist as she silently trod us to the porch.

We remained there, observing the deer in hushed tones and wide eyes. When I asked her how the deer got here, she looked at me with her large, sad eyes.

_"She's lost,"_ She had responded, watching the elegant creature with a wistful gaze. _"Lost and searching."_

"Searching for who, Momma?" My young self implored.

Before she could respond, we heard a rustle disturbing the early morning quiet that hadn't belonged to the doe. My mother quickly got up, running towards the deer, her arms waving madly, driving it away from us.

When I asked her why she had scared our new friend away, tears glistening in my innocent eyes, her answer was simple:

_"So she can keep on searching."_

What I hadn't understood until after her death was that she had been saving the deer from poachers, driving it into the forest and away from the cold death machines of our hunters. I wish I knew if her efforts had worked.

Now Annie reminded me of that deer. She was the elegant, lost creature penned in and surrounded by hunters. Too pure to fight back; without any assistance she would fall into the darkness. Even with assistance, her chances were slim. I knew that all too well, unlike my naïveté so many years ago with the doe.

There was information I could learn, sponsors I could coerce, but I couldn't shield her from the elements, the vicious tributes or the immense pain she would feel upon entering the Arena. Even then, Mags insisted on being even between our tributes, which meant sending Amphitrite valuable gifts that could be going to Annie.

Amphitrite. Although I didn't have any reason not to trust him, I couldn't look into his eyes without tensing up. It wasn't as simple as saying we didn't like each other - there was some greater mystery. Something larger and much more ominous preventing us from working together.

Whatever it was, when he tapped me on the shoulder, presumably appearing from the shadows, I still felt the overwhelming dislike overtake me as we eyed each other.

Regardless of my feelings towards him, he was a tribute, and no part of me, not even the vindictive demon, wanted to see him thrown in the massacre that is the Hunger Games.

"I need to talk to you and Mags," He said simply, blue eyes watching me with the careful glint reminiscent of an owl's, both permanently suspicious and unattached at once.

"Alright, I'll just get Annie and we'll -"

"Alone."

The finality of his tone struck me, a slight anxiety already resonating in my bones over whatever words he was planning on bestowing to Mags and I. My brows furrowed, searching his stony facade for any hint of what this private audience would entail.

"Well, I have to go talk to Annie about some Games-related stuff," It was a lie. "Y'know, mentor-to-tribute." I didn't have to go see her; but when I was around her it alighted laughter and something indefinable that had long lied dormant in my body. So, I had made a point of coming up with some trivial question or topic to discuss with her at least once a day. Usually our conversations veered off almost instantly, much thanks to her strange but lovely questions. Yesterday, she had asked me one of my favourite ones yet.

_"If you knew a magician," _She had whispered, staring off into the distance with her face turned to the moon, the white light illuminating her bewildering eyes. _"Would you ask to know his secrets?"_

I pondered the question for several seconds, wondering what the right answer was.

_"No?"_ Was my final response, tongue rolling as if it was unsure of the word.

She had sighed at my bewildered face before taking several slow steps towards me, her eyes penetrating me in a way that left me slightly dizzy.

I gripped the balcony's railing, steadying myself as she approached. I could still feel the wind drying the cold sheen of sweat that had overtaken my forehead, the warmth of her small body so close to mine. She smelled like the rain.

_"Finnick,"_ She smiled softly. _"There's no right or wrong."_ It was as if she'd read my mind. _"I don't care what you answer, so long as it's _you._"_

I had never had anyone speak to me the way she did. In all honesty, I had never met anyone who spoke the way Annie did. It was this odd but brilliant mix of philosophy, whimsy, and a dash of melancholia.

Amphitrite's solemn stare brought me back to reality.

"I'll talk to Mags first, then." He countered, unwavering in his determination. "Just come by the meeting room when you're done with Annie." He turned away, already heading off in the other direction.

There was something tired and almost weary about his last few words, but I didn't care to evaluate the reason. Instead, it was time to go meet Annie.

The normally short trip to her room felt longer than normal, and by the time I reached her door I was already antsy, hands tingling oddly.

My curled hand stretched upwards to knock on the light wood, but before my knuckles even tapped the door, it was being swung open.

My fist was still standing freely in the air when Annie looked up to see me.

"Oh, hey Finnick!" The smile that stretched her lips was so instant, so immense, beautiful, and genuine, I could feel the blood rushing to my face.

God, she's so pretty.

"Hey, Annie." I smiled, letting my awkward hand drop and slide into my pocket. I couldn't help the grin that overtook my face. It was so big it didn't even allow for a flirtatious comment to seep through it. I just wanted to smile.

She looked at me expectantly, cocking her head and staring at me with big, long-lashed eyes. She was waiting for me to tell her why I was here.

I always had a reason.

I always had some made-up question or another to excuse myself with.

_No, they were real questions._

Oh, who am I kidding.

"I was just bored." Was the unexpected response that seemed to slide out of my lips, landing with an _oomph _on my shoes. _Please please please_, I prayed, _don't let her think I'm annoying. _

_Finnick!_ I admonished myself_. _You're Finnick. _Since when are you concerned with -_

Oh, she laughed. I love it when she laughs.

"What a coincidence, so was I." She bit her lip and looked downwards, a slight pink resting on her cheeks. She had stopped blushing so harshly around me, but it was still constant and adorable.

"Then again there's not much to do around here," She sighed. "Unless I want the Pastels to do my hair." I chuckled, recognizing the term she'd told me about a few days ago, a name Petal, Flicker and Antoinette seemed to love.

"So that leaves even less for me to do!" I quipped, settling onto her slightly ruffled bed while she continued to flit about the room.

"Oh, please!" She called from the bathroom, and I watched her reflection laugh. "They'd be more than happy to do yours, and if not I'm sure you could make a sport out of how many women you can seduce in five minutes."

She floated back into the room with a cup of water, looking awkwardly at the bed I sat on before turning and taking a seat on the couch opposite it.

My heart startled slightly. _Uh, why? _

_I want her to sit next to me. It's that simple. Why won't she sit next to me?_

When I spied the blush on her cheeks, my mind settled, if only slightly. She was really just that... innocent, wasn't she? She smiled at my sweetly from the couch, folding her knees and tucking in her feet.

I smiled inwardly. Yup. That was it.

"But I always win that game," I whined, pouting dramatically at her.

Her head fell back and she laughed, shaking her head before laying it down on the couch's back rest. She watched me quietly for a moment before responding.

"I'm sure you do, Finnick Odair." She said my name with an exaggerated attitude and flick of her wrist, emanating the Capitol women.

"Care to give me some competition?" I raised an eyebrow, letting a smirk twitch into true Odair form.

She moved her head from the couch, looking me straight in the eye. "I have already, haven't I?" She smiled softly, and my heart begun to beat faster for some unknown reason. I wouldn't allow myself to guess what she was talking about.

But I couldn't help but wonder.

While I was having my internal monologue, she observed my momentary silence before speaking in more of her enigmatic questions.

"Why do you do it?" She asked, her head yet again resting on the couch. Her hair cascaded softly over her shoulder, encasing the white skin in a tawny brown waterfall.

Do _what?_

I voiced my thoughts. She licked her lips, contemplating her next move before speaking.

"Act so..." She trailed off, her kind eyes searching mine for something I wasn't sure existed. "Like them." She finished.

I was speechless. My stomach seemed to drop indefinitely.

I dropped my eyes to the floor, suddenly and wholly ashamed of myself. I was the same vain, disgusting, horrible person I'd always thought. And she saw it too.

When I looked up from the floor, she was standing straight up, her eyes penetrating in every way but malicious.

"'Cause you're not," She shook her head, the tiniest of smiles lighting her face. "You're nothing like them, but sometimes you pretend you are. Like the first few days I met you."

When she finished explaining, all I could do was look at her in silence. No words came to my mind. Nothing. It was as if someone had cut open my brain, turned it upside-down, and dumped its entirety out onto the floor, leaving me to madly scramble for the contents.

I shook my head blankly, running a hand through my hair.

"It has its advantages," I managed to strangle out, using one of my usually infallible smiles I somehow felt wouldn't fool Annie.

She looked me up and down. "It seems a great deal of effort for such an insignificant difference."

"Can I be honest?" She penetrated my silence.

I nodded, dreading whatever was coming next. She was surely about to tell me how fake and horrendous I was.

"I like you better like this." She stated decidedly, her voice leaving no room for argument.

My confidence over my ability to conceal my emotions must have been completely exaggerated, because when I looked into her eyes she noticed my shock.

"Well, I said I'd be honest, didn't I?" She smiled.

My body suddenly ached insatiably, and I had absolutely no idea why. But it was surprisingly wonderful. Words started to pour back into my brain, one at a time.

"I can't say I disagree with you, Annie my dear." I rubbed the back of my neck, a grin pulling at my lips. "Unfortunately there are too many that do." _If only she knew._

Her face was suddenly filled with a hidden sadness I couldn't quite comprehend.

"Well, at least I always look like this, right?" I grinned cheekily and pointed at my face, watching with relief as she laughed once again.

"True," She giggled, standing up from the couch. "Uh, unfortunately I already promised Leif I'd go meet him for a final pageant fitting in a few minutes." She shifted her weight uncomfortably as she watched me rise. She felt bad kicking me out, I could tell.

"No, no problem." I smiled, head still reeling from our conversation. "I'm sorry to have kept you for so long, you can blame me if your late." I walked towards the door, holding it open for her with as we both exited.

"Oh, you're in no part to blame!" She laughed in her lovely way of laughing, beginning her way down the hall, towards Leif's fitting room, walking backwards to look me in the eye. "If anything, you make the lengths of boredom that much easier to overcome!" With one more smile she turned.

I stared after her a moment, waiting till she was out of earshot to whisper something in time to the beat of my pounding heart.

"You make things a bit easier too, Annie."

* * *

><p>My head was still clouded and unclear, swirling maniacally as I returned to Mags' and I's designated meeting room.<p>

The creaking of its door invaded my inner world, and I watched an utterly shocked Mags walk slowly away from the crystalline door. Her mouth was slightly parted, her eyes glassy, and she clutched a tissue tightly in one hand, her knuckles white.

"Mags!" I rushed towards her, my arms immediately winding around her aged body.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?" I frantically searched her face for any hint as to what had caused her such grief.

She looked up at me with glazed eyes. "I can't believe it," She whispered, her voice low and hoarse.

"Can't believe what?" I probed. The continued creaking of the door drew my eyes momentarily to the entryway, and I spied Amphitrite sitting, still as stone, in a chair off to the side.

What should have clicked moments ago only began to register now. Whatever Amphitrite had said did this to Mags. I controlled the urge to pin him against the wall and make him repeat whatever had shocked Mags into this state.

She waved her hand absently, still distracted in her thoughts. "Go talk to him." She responded. "You'll see."

That was the only answer I received before she waddled off, limping in the way she always had.

I walked briskly into the room, standing directly across from Amphitrite, who continued to stare at the wall.

I waited for him to speak. He waited for me.

Several silent seconds passed by before I sat down and he brought his eyes to me.

"I have a request to make." His words were simple and somber, as were his blue orbs.

"I can't make any promises," My gaze never wavered from his face, and the air seemed to hold an indefinable tense quality.

He was quiet a moment, and my heart started beating faster. What could he possibly be about to say?

"If it comes down to it," Pause. "I want you to save Annie."

I could barely think. I had never, ever, in all my years as a mentor had a tribute say something remotely like this. What he was saying... it meant he was willing to die for her. _He was willing to die for her._

Why?

Although this should have been good news, making my heart leap with joy, I couldn't help that it suddenly plunged downwards for reasons I was completely unsure of.

We looked at each other a long while.

"Done." I finally broke the silence.

"You can't tell her, understood?"

I struggled to keep my face blank, my eyes from closing, my mouth from twitching. Somehow I doubted this conversation had gone so quickly with Mags.

I nodded in agreement. No, she couldn't know - little Annie, she would just break entirely. She'd do something reckless and stupid... try and save Amphitrite. That couldn't happen.

She was going to come out alive. I felt it.

Unfortunately I knew it was more that I couldn't imagine her not returning. Her fate couldn't be saved by my petty smiles or flirtations. She would have to do something.

Amphitrite broke our staring contest as he got up to leave.

"You know she's made the decision she won't kill anyone?"

My heart simply dropped. Why was she doing this to me? To herself? She'd never come out alive if -

"She said she'll fight. And I have no doubt she will. But she refuses to end anyone's life - even if it's the Careers."

I shook my head slowly, wiping my brow with a warm hand. Why. Why, why, why, why, why.

It took everything in me not to flip the table over and scream like a madman. Everything was wrong. She wasn't supposed to be here, wasn't supposed to be like she was, wasn't supposed to go into a kill-or-be-killed game. And she certainly wasn't supposed to be invading my head.

But I couldn't say any of this to Amphitrite. But something deep inside me told me he knew exactly how I was feeling.

"Take care of her," I spoke to his exiting back. He paused momentarily and turned around.

"I will." He nodded. "And when it's your turn, you better do the same."

With that he was gone.

My turn? _My_ _turn?_ My thoughts began to swim, leaving me incapacitated and entirely confused. Nothing made sense. What was he saying, _my turn?_ Did he think Annie would win? Why would _I _be taking care of her?

Why couldn't things make any fucking _sense_?

I put my head in my hands, demanding my aching mind to start computing again. But it hurt too harshly. This year was so much harder than all the others. I should never have let myself befriend Annie. But the idea of staying away from her seemed... relatively impossible.

Small, quiet feet shuffled into the room. Without looking up I knew they belonged to Mags.

She sighed deeply. "That was something I never imagined I'd hear in my lifetime."

I shook my head. "Yeah," my voice was quiet and hoarse. I wanted to voice everything I was feeling; but I couldn't. I didn't even _understand_ what I was feeling myself.

Mags creaked into the chair Amphitrite had recently taken, and I for the first time I saw the coffee cup clutched in her wrinkled, papery hands. Her fingertips caressed the cup nervously.

I kept my head in my hands and stared at the table, my head beginning to throb.

**LISTEN TO: VIDEO GAMES BY LANA DEL RAY**

I wanted to see Annie.

_No, no you don't. _I attempted to persuade myself to stay away from her. I couldn't corrupt her in the way I surely would. I couldn't see her. I shouldn't see her.

My heart pounded against my chest, thrumming throughout my entire body. When I thought of her smiling face my chest began to warm pleasantly, fluttering into my limbs and erasing my headache. She'd make me feel better. She would, I knew she would. She would make me forget about the Games and Amphitrite and the pain and -

I tightened my fist. It wasn't me that needed all this. It was her. Why was I complaining when it was _her _who would be thrown into the Games in a week?

Mags placed a hand on my aggressive fingers, sighing. "You should probably go get Annie."

It takes me a minute to understand what she's saying.

I get to go see Annie.

Before I can talk myself out of it I nod and squeeze out of my chair, walking slowly down the hallway towards the girl I can't yet understand.

Each step is heavy and laboured, and my hands itch to grab against the wall and stop myself from walking any further. How will I be able to look her in the eye, speak to her, be near her, without spilling the entirety of my soul to the girl with the frightening eyes?

_She's unlike everyone else. There's something about Annie that's got me confused, and I can't figure out what that is._

I arrive at her door sooner than I would have liked. I knock and clear my throat. The large door is suddenly dark and intimidating, the wood staring at me in defiance. Silently daring me to find what lies behind it.

I clear my throat, an unusual humming resonating throughout my body. I knock.

Once. Twice. Three times.

No answer.

I stared awkwardly at the door, willing it to open. It doesn't.

I swallow hard, my palm pressed against the cold entryway. "Oh Annie..." I trail off, my voice attempting to pierce through the thick separation piece.

No response. Impatient, I press my ear to the door. The sound of water humming resounds off the walls. She's in the shower.

Sighing, I open the door and stamp my feet. I silently kick off my shoes and pace around the room, adrenaline coursing throughout my veins. It's strange to be in Annie's habitat without her, and it holds a slightly thrilling illegal feeling. A sharp noise from the bathroom catches my attention, and I pad towards the closed door.

I place my ear to the door of the bathroom, where I hear a sound that's not quite water.

Every inch of me is alive. Grabbing and twisting the handle at an alarming rate, I smash through the entryway. "Annie?" I call out. I look to the shower, which has completely fogged up with steam. I cautiously tiptoe to the shower door, wet spots seeping through my socks as I walk. The noise gets louder. I grasp the handle tentatively and push.

There she is.

Sobbing, writhing on the floor, fully clothed, is Annie. Her pale body is encased in a small black dress, the material clinging to her skin within the layers of water. I can see her arms shaking, weak and fragile like leafs in a storm.

Within the second I drop to the floor and slide to her, taking her in my arms and rocking the fragile body back and forth. Back and forth. She's cold and stiff, even when I press her into me her reaction is slow and creaking.

When my fingers delicately grasp her she cries out louder, her bruised arms initially fighting me. Water stings my eyes, but I grip her tighter, ignoring the faint slap of her hands on my shoulder.

"Shh," I soothe, pressing my mouth to her ear, "shh, it's alright. I'm here. I'm here Annie. And I won't let anyone hurt you." The water is warm and everywhere, leaking into my every crevice, falling into my mouth and gargling my words. Her hair is soaked and pressed against her face, distorting her beautiful profile. I can feel her smooth skin against my cheek. When she looks up at me her eyes are terrified, but they remain the dangerous green of the sea before a storm. There is shock in those eyes, and pain that I can't begin to comprehend; but there's also recognition. She sees me.

"Fi-Finnick," She sobs, choking on my name and crying harder. Her tears are too much, her pained expression and dead eyes turn me into a mess. My body threatens to send me into the same state Annie finds herself.

But everything in me fights to remain lucid for her. She needs me. She needs me. _She needs me._

"It's just me, I won't let anyone hurt you," I coo, holding her shaking body close to mine. _I will never let anyone, ever, ever hurt you Annie. I will fight tooth and nail for you, I don't care how it's done - I'll get you out of that Arena. _My thoughts are trembling and bordering on unsure; I no longer have a grasp of what I can do or can't. Everything I once thought was important seems trivial, anything I once thought I knew now seems false. Nothing makes sense besides holding her now. I just want her to stop crying.

_Stop crying._

_Oh, please stop crying._

"It's not me I'm worried about," She whispers, "it's their blood - oh, god." Her voice is terrifying, one that could ripple still water and make sirens silence themselves. "I can already feel it on me, and no matter how hard I try it just won't come off!" She wails, turning her body completely into me. She flails at her skin, wiping at an invisible liquid on her body that isn't water.

"I know, baby, I know." _Baby?_ My mind freezes. _How did that come out?_ My body freezes along with my mind, and I stop rocking her. But as I do I feel her body increase in shaking and within second I continue. "You're going to get through this. I'm going to make sure you do, okay?" _Fuck, Finnick, this isn't the time._

"No, I - I just -"

I start to take off my jacket and wrap it around her, as if to shield her from the shower. If only I could shield her from the world in the same way. "Stop, Annie, shh. It's going to be okay... be-because I'm going to get you back home. I am going to do everything in my power to get you home." I've haven't been at such a loss for words in years. But she is doing this to me. I can't fight it, I can't ignore it like I've done with so much else. Nothing matters besides this shower, this moment, and I can't even think of what to say.

She shakes her head but remains silent. My hand, shaking, reaches up and pulls her soaking hair away from her face. Her eyes, lost in a sea of smudged makeup, look up at me terrified. And it breaks my heart. Those amazing, frightening, eyes, holding such terror. This girl should be back in the district, swimming in the ocean and breaking boys hearts. Instead she's here. My hatred for the Capitol has rarely been so great as in this moment, and I feel anger boil within me like lava in a volcano. The demon strains against its leash, breaking away and howling for blood. Snow. Snow.

A small hand grips against my shirt, and its Annie. Annie, Annie, Annie, everything that matters is _Annie, Annie, Annie_.

I can see in her eyes she doesn't know what to do. She wants me to tell her, wants me to guide her.

I coo at her, sweet nothings in her ear, gently standing her up and bringing her out of the shower. I grab a towel and attempt to dry her off; but she fights me with what little energy she has when I reach for her dress. Taking off the soaking wet clothes isn't an option, she blushes and struggles, try as I might. She won't let me see her naked.

This is different than any other situation I've been in with a woman. When they look at me to guide them, it's to guide them to a bed and make love, pretend passion under false pretenses. When I reach for their clothes, they are flung away immediately. Now, Annie fights to keep them on as I try to prevent her from catching hypothermia. She continues to grip my shirt, afraid once she lets go she'll fall and not be able to get back up. But maybe she won't be able to - I don't know with Annie.

Wrapping my arms around her delicate body, she nestles into me as I take her to the bed. She's so tiny, it almost scares me. Her wrists are not emaciated, not her ribs protruding from her chest. But she has no muscle, she could barely be 115lbs. This delicate creature has no place in the Hunger Games.

Slowly, carefully, I place her onto the plush bed and pull the quilt over her trembling body, smoothing the covers over her. She grips at the blanket and whimpers, tears forming in her eyes.

I don't what it is that makes me slide into the bed and pull her into the protection of my body, my arm winding around her waist, her head resting on my arm. But moving, in this instant, feels like the most cruel and heartbreaking task I would ever have to complete. She buries her face in my neck, and we lay together, words hushed, two sopping wet bodies clinging together for life and sanity. My whispers are soft and my caress on her cheek even lighter, and when her lips brush ever-so-slightly against my collarbone a fire ignites inside me. My breath catches, fingers instinctively tightening on her curved hip where her dress has ridden up. She is wholly soft and wondrous and utter perfection. Eyelashes tickle my shoulder and calm my beating heart, but long after her eyes flutter shut my own are plastered open, my skin trembling in its own way, body revelling in her heartbeat that I can feel through my t-shirt, fingers cautious and aching to feel her silken skin.

Eventually, my eyes closed and we fell into something like a synchronized slumber.

_Many eyes closed that night, few woke up seeing the same._

* * *

><p>I told you guys you wouldn't be disappointed! I loved writing it, and I've been planning the shower seen for a longgggg time now, so that was amazing to finally complete.<p>

And this chapter up means something else... the dance is coming! Next update guys, I promise you that - and I know exactly what's going to happen! :D

Hope you guys loved it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I'm so entirely enthused that I finally get to write in some romantic feelings between Finnick/Annie.

**And one more surprise: There's a banner for this story on my profile! Check it out!**


	16. The Exquisite Pain

Hey everyone! I know, I know, it's been too long – honestly, I was building this chapter up for so long I was too afraid to write it! Finally I strapped myself down and did drabbles.. then my hand got injured and I couldn't type for 2 weeks.. sooo.. that's what happened there. Anywho, hopefully y'all like it. Thanks for the support guys, it's been amazing, and I hope this doesn't disappoint you... I'm VERY excited for your reaction!

_Hit me like a ray of sun,  
>Burning through my darkest night.<br>You're the only one that I want,  
>Think I'm addicted to your light.<em>

Halo; Beyoncé.

* * *

><p><strong>LISTEN TO: THE MIGHTY RIO GRANDE BY THIS WILL DESTROY YOU<strong>

**ANNIE'S POV **

His arms were like walls. Like large, impenetrable walls that, whilst I was in their protection, would never allow me to cry, or fall, or even bruise. Walls that could stop the wind flat against their sinew, walls that could dam rivers with their very surface or stop earthquakes with their muscle. And he kept me within them.

His eyes were still closed, golden lids shielding his perfect sea green eyes from the world. I supposed it was only fair. The world could only see such beauty for so many hours of the day. For now, they would be hidden away, like gleaming emeralds buried in the sand. Maybe soon I would be allowed to see them.

Our bodies were still entwined, his arms wrapped around my waist, touching the sacred skin above my hips, making my chest heave and stomach seize with a feeling at once completely foreign and perfectly calming. His chest pressed against mine lightly as it rose and fell with each breath, and I couldn't remember the last time I had found someone's breathing to be so beautiful.

I knew I would have to leave soon. I knew he would have to leave soon. Preparation for the dance began in the earliest hours of the morning, and the hazy pink of the beginnings of the day were already infiltrating the windows. But it wouldn't be me to break this spell. So instead of rousing from this dream and leaving the sanctuary of Finnick's bare arms, I gently closed my eyes, laying my head on his shoulder and taking solace in the beating of his heart.

**FINNICK'S POV**

Yellow light, a shade which one is only privileged enough to see in the early hours of select mornings, was filtering through silken curtains with, apparently, only one purpose – to illuminate the girl in my arms.

And what a girl she was. I had once thought the light of the moon was the most beautiful lighting she would ever endure, but as the early morning light filtered through the curtains I was inexplicably struck by the brilliance of her _everything._

Our bodies were still slightly damp, pressed together with an innocence I wasn't sure I had ever possessed. She was breathing softly, the whispers escaping her mouth tickling my collarbone, alighting a fire on my neck that burst into my every vein and pervaded the air. My calloused fingertips brushed nervously against her soft, pure skin, unsure of their placement. My breathing grew slightly laboured, the urge to bury my face in her sweet-smelling neck growing stronger by the second. I wanted nothing more than to be as close to her as possible; to feel her arms wind round my neck and body press guiltlessly against mine.

Was this what the women at the Capitol felt when they bought me? _No,_ I decided. What they wanted was animalistic and sick. Wrong. They wanted moans, damp sheets, and raw skin. I simply wanted to _feel_ her. Her every curve, every crevasse, every freckle and dimple - I wanted to know her. Not invade her. I wasn't sure how burying myself in her moon-tinted skin would allow me to know her, but somehow it felt as if it would allow me to do just that. I wanted her heart to beat faster, and her breath to all but halt, I wanted to make her dizzy and hazy in all the ways she made me.

Watching her eyelashes dance slightly across her cheek made my heart begin to hammer furiously against my chest. She was waking up.

I couldn't – I couldn't be here. Everything I had just felt, everything I was feeling, would only hurt her. Only hurt me. Denying myself the right to be near her seemed intensely painful and cruel, the idea of ignoring her seemingly impossible; but it was about so much more than me. It was about her.

I had been used to pain for years. But Annie, she was so pure. So wholesome, untainted and utterly lovely that my overused fingertips would surely leave marks on her. Any association with me would mean overwhelming punishment for her – and it would be all my fault. She didn't know about my past, about my late nights with high-paying lovers – and she couldn't. If she did, the illusion between us would be shattered. She was too good for me. I knew that. She didn't know any connection with me would be immediately detected by Snow, who would punish not only me but her as well.

I had made up my mind to leave the bed, tiptoe out the door and stay away far, far away – but at that exact moment her eyelids fluttered open and her faultless green eyes paralyzed me.

Everything, every idea of leaving her or staying away was gone. I was caught, like a fish, in the hook that was her eyes.

We watched each other for seconds that felt like hours.

Her eyelashes flitted several times, brushing her cheeks lightly as her hand grasped onto my shirt tightly.

My heart beat wildly. Surely she could hear it.

Her innocent eyes filled with a slight mischief as she smiled.

"Why are you so wet?"

Laughter bubbled up from my chest, despite the hold I tried to keep on it. Running a hand through my hair, I heard her giggles joining in the chorus of mine. My eyes now faced the sealing, one arm still wrapped around her back and hand lightly resting on my waist. It felt too good to move yet.

"I fought a few sea monsters last night, don't you remember?" I grinned back at her, our smiles so wide it felt – and looked – as if we'd slept with hangers in our mouth.

"You certainly did fight some monsters." She smiled wistfully, and it wasn't hard to guess what she meant. Despite the fact that Annie was constantly smiling, she had some kind of inner sadness that weighed my heart down. It was hard to watch without being affected by it.

"And saved some princesses," I added casually, wondering if the words would have a negative effect on her.

Despite my worries, they didn't seem to bother her at all, and she laughed, the sound ringing throughout the room like the song of a mockingjay.

"You _are_ a prince, Finnick Odair." She bit her lip, her head now resting against my bicep, our faces overwhelmingly close.

I wasn't sure if she could feel the energy between us. The intangible thing that was heating up between our bodies and yelling at me to do _something._ Anything. So long as it would bring her closer to me. But her gaze flickered, and when it returned to my eyes there was something both frightened and willing in her green orbs that seemed to undulate like the water.

My mouth parted slightly, so very unsure of the world around me – and suddenly there was noise outside the door. Not very much, but enough for my trained ears to pick up. People were beginning to awaken. And judging by the strength of the sunlight infiltrating her windows, preparations for the dance would be soon. Which meant I had to leave. Now.

Her eyes widened, and we jumped out of bed at the exact same time, my arms suddenly cold and unsatisfied with the previous occupant no longer in them.

I straightened out my shirt before running a hand through my cow-licked hair, suddenly very aware of the consequences of being caught leaving Annie's room in the early morning.

I turned to her, forcing myself to look her in the eyes. "I'm sorry." The words were true. I rubbed the back of my neck, her green eyes kind and forgiving. So forgiving… but could she ever know my secrets and look at me in the same way?

I blindly grabbed for the door handle behind me, unwilling to look away from her eyes. "I've got to go now, before everyone wakes up –"

"I understand." She nodded, her smile light and genuine. She wrapped her arms around her midsection uncomfortably, staring at the floor as I jerked the handle down and slowly began to open the door.

"I wish I didn't," I tried to catch her eyes, but they remained forlornly staring at the ground. I began to turn around, but she took a step closer to me, and suddenly we were achingly close again.

"Maybe later we could…" I trailed off, my breathing heavy as I stared down at her, my body alive again with that same strange sensation.

"The dance…" She muttered, her soft voice murmured as she looked into my eyes.

I opened my mouth once again, but a door to my left suddenly creaked open and we froze. Annie's eyes were suddenly large and terrified, searching me for instructions on what to do.

I eyed her with nonchalance, allowing my face to glaze over into the same Capitol-ready look I'd been holding for years. My emotion drained, my eyes picked up their sexual gleam, and I rolled my tongue in my mouth slightly, ready to purr at a moment's notice.

Turns out my years of lying would help me become an actor for the next few minutes. I gave Annie a calm look before turning to the source of the noise, which had been Leif, Wichita and Stark entering through the door that connected D4's tribute wing to the rest of the building.

"Finnick!" Stark's voice was as surprised as her painted blue face. "You're up already?"

The group approached us, Stark startled, Wichita impassive and Leif suspicious. By the curve of his eyebrow and pucker of his lips, I could tell he wasn't buying it.

"I've heard numerous good things about being the early bird," I quipped, my eyebrow raising, a snicker pulling at my lips. "So I decided I'd give it a try. Besides, we all know Annie and Amphitrite need to get to makeup pronto – they're living up to me after all, and that takes work."

I hated every single word that came out of my mouth.

Stark's laugh was senseless and high-pitched, scratching against my eardrums. Wichita, the curvy, silver-skinned stylist of Amphitrite's, bit her lip and eyed me with a playful sensuality. I let my left eyelid slide into a wink, my posture casual and dominant.

"So you just woke up Annie?" Leif eyed me with affected nonchalance. "Not Amphitrite?"

My years of quick-witted deceit would finally pay off. I knew how to lie with ease, not bothering to stutter or sweat.

"Well, yes, she's my tribute after all." I laughed as if his question was ridiculous. "And I just got here." Shrugging, I pointed at the door down the hall, the entrance to Amphitrite's room. "You can get the boy if you'd like."

Leif and I had unconsciously been taking steps towards each other, and despite the age difference between us – he must've had five years on me at least – we were almost exactly the same height and I certainly had more muscle on him.

That, and the fact that I had spent time in an Arena, killing children to save myself, led me to the total lack of intimidation I felt while sizing myself up next to him. He had spent his life sewing fabrics and beads. Some comparison this was.

"Oh no, I'll go get him!" Wichita waved cheerily behind us, Stark following in her steps, babbling about something unimportant.

"Annie," Leif's eyes never wavered from mine. "Go change out of that dress, dearest, it must be awfully uncomfortable to have been in that since last night. When you're done we'll go finish your alterations."

My breath nearly caught. The dress. More evidence – and Leif knew it.

I heard Annie's feet pad away into the room softly, and I shifted my position to block him from the door.

"Whatever it is you're doing," His voice was low and dangerous, his dark eyes flashing. "It needs to stop _now._"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." My words were quick, with no consideration coming before their release. He looked me up and down, but I remained unmoving. When his gaze returned to meet mine they held unadulterated disgust.

"She's too good for you," His growl was guttural and quiet, but I picked up the words nonetheless.

God, doesn't he know I know that? No, of course he doesn't. He sees what I've portrayed for the past five years; he sees what he wants to see.

He moved to take a step to the left, but I caught his arm before he could walk away. Our eyes met once more.

"I know that," I bore into his eyes with words I couldn't speak. There was more I wanted to say; but I wasn't sure how or even if I could. The look he gave me didn't leave room for much more discussion, and neither did Annie reappearing in the door-frame.

She eyed us cautiously, a smile wavering, unsure, on her pink lips, as she stepped between us. "Well, I suppose we should go now, huh Leif?"

She sent a rolling browse in my direction, a silent question I wasn't sure how to answer.

"Yeah, we probably should." He smiled tightly in her general direction, gesturing down the hall. "Ladies first."

She smiled back at him before returning her gaze to me. "G'bye Finnick," She smiled, her words more permanent and her smile smaller than I would have liked.

"I'll see you later, Annie." I assured her, waving a hand as she turned down the hall. Turning my back to the girl with the frightening eyes had a horrible sense of uneasiness to it, and no matter how I shook my head as I wandered down the hall, it wouldn't go away.

I suddenly found myself wondering about a magician's secrets.

* * *

><p><strong>ANNIE'S POV<strong>

My heart fluttered rapidly, my fingers grasping impatiently at the material of my dress as the minutes ticked by.

"Leif," My voice rang throughout the cold metal room, and in the reverberations I could hear the desperation that was laced in my tone. "I don't know if I can do this."

My deep breathes were halted by the confines of my dress's bodice, the boning pressing uncomfortably into my side as I exhaled. My hands gripped at the neckline tightly, attempting to free myself from the constraints and breathe freely.

"Yes you can," Leif's voice was nonchalant, and his echoing footsteps alerted me of his impending approach.

I laughed awkwardly, the exiting noise scraping against my throat as Leif began to adjust a loop of tulle at my hip.

"I mean, _Finnick_ told us how much Mariou gushes over you." My breath halted. Finnick's name had received such emphasis in his words, with a tone I wasn't sure could be received as unlike disgust. I kept silent, waiting for Leif to continue, but the pin he held between his teeth stopped any further conversation.

"He's just trying to make me feel better." I bit my lip, wishing I could explain to him the extent of Finnick's care. Last night... he'd been so sweet, holding me in his arms, letting me cry on his shoulder - but whatever strange sense of foreboding rested in me, it wouldn't allow me to share last night's experience with the charming stylist. So I bit at my red-stained lips, thinking if I'd kissed blood they couldn't be any more red.

Leif's face revealed nothing as he worked, but when the tulle was in its proper place, the pin now hidden in the folds of fabric and not in Leif's lips, he rose to his full height and spoke once again.

"Well, even if you mess up you sure _look_ the part. And the sponsors care more about that then performance. " He winked, his large hand squeezing my arm comfortingly. His dark eyes suddenly turned serious, his face falling somberly. "At least for tonight." The smile he gave was a small one, and as he turned from me his eyes remained downcast, never once meeting mine.

_At least for tonight._ Yes, tonight would be all fake smiles and powdered lies. The Games... that would be something else entirely.

I attempted to smile at Leif's turned back, but the corners of my painted lips trembled until completely collapsing.

I turned to face the mirror, observing myself in the reflective surface. I was so different from the girl that Panem had met at the Opening Ceremonies. The dress was unlike anything I had ever imagined. The entire thing was as white and frothy as sea foam. The tight, strapless bodice hugged me tightly, displaying my pale shoulders and amplified cleavage with a striking sweetheart neckline. My waist was well displayed in the dream-like white cloth before falling out in layers upon layers of tulle. The decorations over the tulle was the most striking part; half-bubbles of shimmering blue-green fabric took up upper half of the skirt, aligned in such a way they were reminiscent of scales, or bubbles from the very ocean itself. I was no longer the dangerous, sensual fish that had caused howls and panting - I was soft, weightless, ethereal. I was the white caps of the waves roaring to shore. This was me; not the creature from before.

"It's missing something."

The skirt swayed around my ankles as I turned abruptly to find Leif watching me with wistful eyes. He reached into his pocket, steps slow and deliberate as he drew nearer to me. I watched his approach from the mirror; his tall, lithe body a shadow over my shoulder.

The object he pulled out was golden and shimmering; and as he carefully placed it on my neck, careful of my artfully constructed hair, the weight it held was surprising.

Leif's smile grew, but despite the size of it there was an indefinable sadness in his eyes. His hands rested on my shoulders, and for a long moment the glare of the lights prevented me from seeing my new accessory.

The light twirled and eventually dwindled, revealing the gold watch Bombay had presented me with only days ago. I felt the air escape my lungs, my lips parting in surprise - her necklace! I'd taken it off for the Opening Ceremonies, I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it earlier!

"Perfect." Leif exhaled, his cheek nearly pressing into mine.

I turned to him, mouth agape, tears glistening in my eyes. I reached up, fingers trembling in disbelief, and fingered the cold metal jewelry. "I can't believe I forgot about it..." The pendant twinkled and sparkled even more than before, the light flickering off the polished surface at all angles. There was something... different about it.

"It's really beautiful. Just like you, Annie." Leif reached a hand up and brushed a strand of hair out of my voice, his smile soft and his words warm and soothing.

I rolled the clock in my fingers again, eyebrows creasing as I struggled to identify the changes in it.

"There's something off," I whispered, my quivering voice as unsure as my thoughts.

"I, ah, modified it a bit." He chuckled, his gaze flickering from the pendant to my eyes, asking if he could hold it. I nodded, and he reached for the clock.

"So I do apologize for keeping it from you, but I thought maybe I could just spruce it up a bit." I shook my head quickly, laughing lightly in response.

"No, it's beautiful, Leif. Just like everything you make," I smiled up at him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, turning my attention back to the clock.

He grinned broadly. "I only made a few minor changes to the front, infusing the metal with some of our star powders - that's what makes it almost glow. I redid some of the etchings, made them more prominent. But what you really need to see is the inside." His voice grew excited, and I found my heartbeat increasing with him.

With a soft _click_, Leif unlatched the pendant's lock and slowly began to lift the top. And once I saw the image that lay before me, my blood fell cold and my heart still. I grasped at the pendant blindly and pulled it closer to my face.

It was the sea.

My lovely, ever-changing, beautiful sea.

Within the confines of the small gold pendant, Leif had managed to create a miniature sea. It wasn't the static etching that had once existed in the same place, but a moving, undulating picture. It was as if I could see directly through the jewellery to the ocean of D4. The sky above it was a cold, stony gray, and the water was choppy and murky; horrible conditions for swimming. But I couldn't have cared less. It was my perfect sea, with its unpredictability and all, right there in the palm of my hand.

My eyes were glassy as I ran a finger over the image. It was flat, and it didn't move as the image did.

"How is this possible?" My voice is hoarse and almost undecipherable, but nonetheless Leif understands me.

"It's a broadcasted image from 4. Whatever the sea does there, the screen will show exactly. Like how the Games are televised. So you can bring it with you wherever you go."

A hand flies to my mouth as I laugh in disbelief, a tear running down my cheek. "It's _amazing._" And it was. It was home, here, in my palm. A comfort I could take with me till my last seconds in the Games.

"Oh, don't cry darlin'." He wipes at the tear, laughing, before holding his hands behind him in the way he only does when he's nervous. "So you like it?"

I manage to tear my eyes away from the screen.

"I _love_ it."

Even as my arms wind around his neck, all I can think about is how badly I want to show Finnick.

* * *

><p><strong>STOP SONG<strong>

Heavy perfume and anxiety fills the thick air, further impeding the strangled breathes of the corseted female tributes. Despite Leif's expertise with fabric, my own dress is no exception, and I tug at the hard, shell-like bodice while gulping the little air I can.

Half of us have been crammed into a dark, musky-smelling room filled with little decoration and even less room. The other half is in a presumably identical room on the opposite side of the Capitol's main ballroom, and all twelve of us wait uneasily for the music's lull to cue our entrance.

Two girls behind me titter nervously to each other, and despite their voices I can only identify them as Honesty and Valor. I never bothered to ask them their real names, nor did they ask mine. Thessaly from District 2 - or Fidelity for the next few hours - is somewhere in front of me, although I can't be sure where. The idea of the venomous, angular-faced brunette, slinking around me in the darkness makes me squirm uncomfortably; but I'm immensely glad Vonlea was put in the other room.

There's a slight tap on the door behind us, causing us all to gasp and jump slightly, our lips immediately slamming shut in order to hear our cue. My ears ring from the silence, and I'm sure I can hear my heart pounding against my chest. I wipe my hands quickly against the silk of my garb, grabbing the fabric in bunches.

**LISTEN TO: SERPENT DANCE BY ARCANA**

Suddenly the upbeat music shifts and my heart seems to momentarily pause, shocked still. An overall intake of breathe is heard from all around me, and before we have another moment to think, the doors are being pushed open, and our miraculously white hands fly up to the beat of exotic flutes and drums.

The spectators around us immediately part ways, at once shocked and awed by our sudden presence. Out of the corner of my eye I see the other half of the girls coming towards us in the same maneuver, Our bodies twisted to face the audience while walking sideways to the center of the ballroom.

Within seconds we arrive at our designated mark, a small, coy smile playing at my lips for their benefit. The people before me are more strange and painted than I had ever imagined, with faces of every shade of pastel possible in their clothes and on their skin.

Several men watch our movements with brazen longing, and I'm suddenly glad for the white mask that covers most of my face, hiding my blush.

As my hips jerk slightly, falling into the well-rehearsed pattern, my nerves flush and my blood seems cool and refreshing in my veins. My body follows the rhythm it knows so well, bending and curving, arms fluttering gracefully.

We begin to move, several girls falling back and shifting until I reach my mark, front and center. My hands rise above my head, clasping together and then wavering slowly. Simultaneously we reach for our cloaks, grasping the silky material and extending it, allowing the rippling cloth to flow and encase us with their movement. The crowd gasps slightly, pleased with the beauty of our movements.

One leg slides out to the point of discomfort, and with deliberate slowness we sink in unison, silk quivering with our movements. We rise suddenly, throwing our heads over our shoulders, drawing our arms out to their full extent, silk flying like a wall as we make a full turn.

The music quickens, and our movements soon increase in speed. My arms are suddenly as free moving and eloquent as water, and they rise up once more before the crowds once again part to make way for the sauntering group of male tributes that approach us.

On cue, Caesar Flickerman's well known voice erupts over the music; but it lacks the vitality and excited quality it usually holds.

"These are the virtues of our world, everything that is good and just."

We bow slightly and begin gesturing to the newest players, the male tributes with slowly waving, beckoning arms and calculated smiles.

"They are as plenty as the crops of the Districts, constant and revered in their glory."

Our District partners approach us, hand outstretched to receive us.

"These are the ladies of virtue," Caesar explains, his voice uncharacteristically somber. "They are Constancy -" Vonlea, Constancy, approaches her partner with languid movements.

"Freedom," The next girl approaches her partner with the same calm grace.

"Fidelity," Thessaly is next, and the audience pays close attention to the introduction of each virtue.

"Honesty,"

"Valor,"

"Purity,"

"Liberty,"

"Peace,"

"Justice,"

"Trust,"

"Repentance,"

"And Beauty."

With exaggerated want and scarce breathe I fling myself into Amphitrite's arms, my face brushing against his neck. We begin to rotate slowly with our partners, Amphitrite's cold blue eyes piercing mine.

"But even virtues can be taken away, through disguised anger and rebellion." Caesar's voice is suddenly mighty, making the room shake with its roar.

**LISTEN TO: MIRAZ CROWNED BY HARRY GREGSON-WILLIAMS**

I begin to step away from Amphitrite, distrust in my eyes, my lips parted in fear. The eleven other girls do the same, but despite our fear, the boys grabbed at our hands and pulled us back, several startled shrieks rising in the air.

With a genius pull of a string, the boys' outer clothing drops and soon they were a row of menacing, all-black criminals.

With affected drama we all began to shrink back, screaming and attempting to fight off our counterparts. I arched my back, pulling against the restraints of Amphitrite's hands lightly. I sent a wild gaze towards the nearest man in the audience, imploring him to help me.

He turned to his wife next to him, nodding and pointing in my direction. If acting was what got me sponsors, I would do everything I could.

"And despite their struggles, these wild men of North America locked away this goodness in their rebellion, and held them captive!"

The backdrop curtain falls to reveal a massive three-dimensional castle of stone and brick. My breathe nearly escapes me, my character dropping, until I feel the rush of all twelve girls beside me being herded into the man-made fortress.

Quickly we rush to our designated spots, two girls for every pillar, waving our flags at the audience in mock emergency. I stand next to a smaller girl, a blonde who I'm sure wouldn't have been able to see over the top if not for the wood box set for her to stand on.

Almost half the spectators are fanning themselves furiously, watching the display with ill-concealed enthusiasm.

"These rebels of North America destroyed their country in fury and hate, overthrowing the government and sealing their fate! For years, this darkness lived on."

A trumpet sounded at the other end of the room, and bursting through the large doors of the ballroom came large, muscular men in blinding pure-white attire and masks.

The viewers of this display once again parted, waving and shouting in support of the clearly designated heroes.

"Until the rise of Panem, these glorious white Knights of Righteousness, came to save the Virtues and restore humanity from the rubble."

My masked eyes frantically began to search for Finnick, and almost immediately I felt the heat of penetrating green eyes spotting me from a far. It was him.

He stepped forward, drawing a sword from his side. "Restore the Virtues or perish!" His words rang throughout the room, his melodious voice giving the forced threat meaning.

Several ladies cooed and clapped behind their fans, immediately deciphering his identity despite the mask, gazing at him with unadulterated pleasure.

Adonis from District 1 stepped towards him, pulling out a sword of his own.

"The dark days have only just begun, Panem shall never rise!"

The crowd jeered and booed, meanwhile myself and the little blonde reached out to our heroes exaggeratedly.

The remainder of the Knights of Righteousness pulled out their swords, as did our captors, and with loud cries from both sides they began a calculatedly thrilling battle.

I lost myself in the drama and realistic cries of the clash. The clanging of swords filled my ears, and soon the cries of tributes followed. There was red everywhere; on the floor, on shirts and swords.

My corset suddenly seemed to be growing tighter, and my breath grew short.

_Where was __**Finnick?**_

My hands gripped at the tower's edges, and I soon lost grip on what was real and what wasn't. My heart pounding right in my ear, the screams of dying boys, of dying Amphitrite chorusing over top. A metallic smell filled my nose and I slammed my teeth together, grinding them to fight myself from screaming Finnick's name.

The remaining Rebels began to scale the towering, their targeted Virtues shrieking as they grasped at their waists and pulled them down. The Knights were right after them, in a much larger number, climbing the fortress with ease to rescue their damsels.

The quickly-constructed prop began to shake under their weight, and the girl next to me began to stumble. Instinctively I reached out for her arm, waiting for her small frame to steady itself with my assistance. She smiled at me gratefully before screaming as a Rebel would his arm around her tiny body and escaped with her. My hand went out after her, as if to steal her from the masked bandit; but as he jumped away and my arm was left in solitude, it was grasped by a large, male hand; and forgetting the pageant I began to pull away with all my strength as it tried to drag me down.

A black mask appeared over the castle's top, and a bloodied face grinned at me ferociously, with eyes all too familiar. It was Adonis; still alive after the mock battle. I began to resist and thrash at his muscular arm, which with its terrifying weight had begun to pull me over the edge. The too far-away floor taunted me, waiting for my small body to break upon impact with it.

Without warning Adonis' weight was gone, the only reminder of his attack the red mark on my wrist. Startled with the sudden freedom, I flew back into the wall, panting. This was all too real. But whatever had freed me from the Rebel's hands would soon be over the wall.

**LISTEN TO: LABOR OF LOVE BY MICHAEL GIACCHINO**

A large hand suddenly gripped at the tower's top, soon a muscular arm, and with a flash of white and gold, a man was before me. No splashes of false blood tattered his pristine white clothes, and his mask remained intact over his eyes.

Green eyes, with tan skin that glistened like the sun and hair seemingly made of gold. His large arms, the muscles hard and round, soon wound round my waist and pulled me to him. Pressed against his well-muscled flesh, his scent pervading my nostrils, the feeling seemed all too familiar. When the sharp green eyes pierced mine, my mind could only scream one name: Finnick!

"Virtuous Beauty, you are _my_ prisoner now." He murmured, his mouth close to my ear.

He then let his arms drop to my knees, and lifted me so gently and quickly into his arms I had no time or need to cry out. We soon flew out of the castle, agile Finnick bounding through the room unseen, taking me away from the castle and into a dim corridor where burning torches gave the only light.

He soon places me down, so lightly and tenderly I've suddenly forgotten to yell at him for absconding with me in the first place. My back hits the wall, but his follows me, and the feeling of his skin against mine runs across my entire body, through my fingers and veins. The air seems pleasantly warmer, and my head is suddenly fuzzy and dizzying. I look up into the haunting green of his eyes again, and despite their intensity I don't turn away.

"Are you alright?" His voice is soft and surrounding, blowing through my hair and across my cheek like a soft wind. Our masks are soon discarded, watching us lifelessly from the floor.

"Yes," Is the only word that I can utter, my breathe faltering, my mind yielding to the image of Finnick's golden face.

His fingers trace their way up my fingers, and goosebumps follow their trail. My arm is suddenly alighted with a tingling, my joints feel as if they've been lit on fire, my stomach bubbling like overheated water. His face moves almost imperceptibly closer to mine, but I feel that ever-so-slight increase, and my chin tilts towards him, holding a will of its own.

"I - I didn't hurt you, did I?" His voice is so quiet, so questioning, as if the answer that awaits him will prove him a monster.

"No!" The word is fast in its response. "No, Finnick. You could never hurt me." My hands begin to reach cautiously, slowly, to his chest, and I lay them daintily on his body.

His hands slowly fall to my waist, and I imagine I can feel their movement through the thick fabric. My heaving chest presses achingly slowly against his.

"Why did you take me here?" My eyes have grown hazy, sliding half shut as I grew delirious with the pleasure that ran through my body as his hand began to slide up my back and push me towards him.

"I wanted..." His one arm wound completely around my waist. "Somewhere..." My hand wound in the hair at the nape of his neck. "Where I could do this."

And that was when it happened.

Finnick Odair kissed me.

And I kissed him back.

The feeling that rushed over my skin was intense and intimate, beginning with the shivering tips of my fingers and spreading much beyond that, farther and deeper.

My entire body was burning hot, my skin tender and ripe, screaming for his touch. My limbs were almost numb, and despite my body temperature I seemed to shiver. The blood within my scorched, and all rushed to my lips, which were so dangerously entangled with his. He pulled me closer to him, softly, squishing my breasts flat against his chest, but it wasn't enough, and I wanted him closer, closer, closer.

It was as if someone had set a million microscopic minnows in my blood stream, and they all flopped and pressed against my skin, making any kind of goosebumps or passion I'd felt before seem cold and acrid.

His lips were almost indistinguishable from my own, and when they moved I knew where to move and for how long and how soft and everything just _flowed. _His body knew mine instinctively, and I knew his. The dizzying in my head grew, and I wasn't sure if we'd been kissing for hours, days, or seconds. His kiss was maniacally intoxicating; and I didn't care if it had been 10 seconds or a week. But I planned on staying like this for a long while.

And then footsteps rang in our ears.

* * *

><p>A link to Annie's dress (remove the spaces): h t t p :  / f o t o s . f o t o f l e x e r . c o m / b f 6 3 a 7 2 5 f 7 b 1 6 e 9 8 7 6 f 6 f b b 6 3 1 4 3 6 4 8 9 . j p g

OKAY GUYS I MEAN CMON

16 CHAPTERS IN THEY FINALLY KISS. IM SO HAPPY. I HAD THE BEST TIME EVER WRITING THEIR KISS.

Anyway. Freakout over. Well, that was officially the longest chapter yet. I hope it was worth it! If you're going to review any chapter, do THIS ONE. I want to know what you guys feel after reading that! I love reading about your reactions!

All my love!


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